


Flowers in the Dark

by frenchposie



Series: Flowers in the Dark [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Caretaking, Cholera, Chronic Illness, Cold, Coughing, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Fever, Flashbacks, Flu, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry Victor Hugo, Illnesses, Lovesickness, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Repressed Memories, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sneezing, Victor Hugo would kill me, sick, sick!Cosette, sick!Javert, sick!ValJean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:04:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 63
Words: 78,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchposie/pseuds/frenchposie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Javert yells at Cosette, he is given the impression that he is no longer welcome at home.  A still hurt Cosette feels protective of her papa who is too unwell to feel protective of her.  Not one yo suffer fools lightly or overstay his welcome, Javert leaves. But, how will the early winter, cholera epidemic, a case of the flu, and an injury help bring this family together?</p><p>Will write for reviews. The more reviews, the quicker the update and the more likely that there will be other sick!fics of this fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Purple Hyacinth

Javert stretched his neck to the side, feeling the pull down his shoulder.  Protection of the Embassy was an important and respectable station, but it also consisted of a lot of standing at attention in the elements. 

Autumn was swiftly turning into winter.  That evening, a fine mist had fallen over Paris, which changed into a frigid chill.  Much to his dismay, the cold snap caused the poor to come to the Embassy in hoards. They demanded food, wood, and other necessities that they should have been saving during the year.  He and Pierre had decided long ago that Pierre had the compassion to deal with the people, while Javert had the presence to make certain that they were properly respected and feared.  However, in this case, he understood.  It was hard to prepare for a winter that was a month early.  And to make it worse, the cholera epidemic that he had seen sweep through the prison at Toulon was making its way through Paris. 

His thoughts drifted to Jean and Cosette.  Never in an eternity would he have assumed that he would end up with a convict.  An ex-convict, he corrected each time he thought about it.  When he had figured out that Jean ValJean, the convict that he had hunted through the years was going to adopt the girl of the dead prostitute, he feared for the child.  What could a convict want with such a young girl?  He was certain that it was nothing good. 

But, then he saw how Jean had bargained for Cosette, bought her a doll, and gently took her away. It ate at him until he was able to watch from afar.  Slowly, but surely, Javert realized that the man may have been a convict, but he was no longer. 

It was months before Jean had approached him, asking why Javert followed but did not arrest him.  In a moment of weakness, Javert spoke to him man-to-man.  It was the best moment of weakness of his life.  Slowly a friendship formed.  Then more.  Now they shared a home, a life, a bed.

He groaned as he rubbed his fingers over his forehead.  His body ached.  He longed to warm himself by the fire with a cup of tea.  He envisioned telling Jean and Cosette about the day and the troubles with the poor.  He knew they would rush out the next day to feed, clothe, and donate to whomever they could.  He would grumble about them being too soft, but he wouldn’t stop them.  They’d eat dinner and he’d hear about their day.  He smiled.  He would never admit to how happy being in this relationship made him.

He coughed into a deerskin gloved fist as he walked inside.  “Cosette?” he barked.  He cleared his throat.  He didn’t much care for yelling to get her attention.  But, the house was bigger than he was accustomed to and it still took him time to get used to how loud he had to be for his voice to carry. 

He shrugged out of his cloak and put his gloves on the halltree.  He walked towards the parlor, the heels of his boot clacking on the wood floor.  He hoped that Cosette’s delay in coming to welcome him home was in no way related to their row from the night before.

_He had been exhausted and quite out of sorts.  More than anything, he wanted to be left alone – even if it upset Jean, which it did.  Jean had tried to gently  pull Javert out of his head.  Cosette was a bit more forward.  She had tried massaging his shoulders, bringing him tea and scones, and telling him about her day.  In the end, he wound up snapping at her – all but yelling at her to leave him alone.  He softened when he saw the tears that shone in her eyes.  Her hurt expression showed him exactly how harsh he had been.  He had never been one for apologies.  Generally, he would give a gift to show remorse.  He knew that it would take more than a posie to show her how sorry he was for this._

_“Cosette,” he said, walking into her sitting room.  He bent down on one knee in front of the young beauty._

_She looked up at him, placing her needlepoint in her lap.  Her eyes were cold, hurt._

_“I apologize,” he blurted out, reaching for her hand.  “I… I … I…,” he turned his head away from her.  “I don’t know.  I just…”  he sighed. He was really bad at apologies.  “I appreciate the concern.  I just need my solitude sometimes,” he explained.  He felt shamed under her heated gaze._

_“Forgiven,” she said, forcing a smile._

_But, Javert saw through it .  He had spent his life gauging people’s body language.  There was no doubt in his mind that she was still mad at him._

“Javert,” a golden soft voice said behind him. 

He turned to look at her, giving Cosette a smile and opening his arm for a hug. 

She stood firm, glaring at him.  Her icy gaze told him that she was still quite upset about the incident the night before. 

He plucked a posie out from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said.  Her voice was still as icy as her glare. 

A shiver raced down his spine, as he realized that he would not have the evening that he had envisioned.  “Where is Jean?” he asked, using the same serious tone that he used at work.  He didn’t like using it at home, but he couldn’t let Cosette see how vulnerable he felt.

“He’s indisposed,” she answered, shortly. 

His heart started to race in his chest.  “Oh?  May I see him?” he asked, putting his hands behind his back. 

“He does not wish to be seen.  Least of all by you.  Come, I’ll make you tea,” she said, swishing down the hall and into the kitchen.

Of course.  Cosette had told Jean about how he had lost his temper and now neither of them wanted to see him.  He knew that things were too good to last.  He was foolish to believe that it ever could.  He lowered his eyes and wondered if he could get into the bedroom to pack his things.  Perhaps he would just have to leave while the slept.  It’s not like he had something to fight against, after all.  He was the one who had screwed up.  He would accept the punishment for his actions.

His cheeks puffed with a quick cough.  He sat near the fire, but couldn’t warm up.  He sat, staring at the flames until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.  He looked up and smiled a bit as Cosette handed him a cup of tea.  “Thank you,” he whispered, taking the cup with both hands and gazing back into the fire. 

“I’ll take my leave,” Cosette said after a bit of time.

Uncertain what was expected of him he nodded, still staring at the fire, the cup encased in his hands.


	2. Thrift Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why doesn't Cosette want Javert to seen Valjean? And, why doesn't ValJean wish to be seen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: Cholera is a disease whose main symptoms are diarrhea, vomiting, and fever. I love a tortured strong man, so Javert and ValJean have quite a hard time coming. I will not use vulgar terms when writing, and I will attempt to not be too descriptive. On the flip side, if these symptoms disgust you, I will understand if you stop reading.

Cosette entered her papa’s room, with a tray of tea, toast, and water.  She had not meant to be so rude to Javert, but her concern for her papa was on the forefront of her mind.  And, she was still upset about the way he had snapped at her the night before.  Neither of the men tended to yell, much and she felt scared when he had not only yelled at her, but got up and moved towards her.  For a moment, she thought he was going to strike her.  She recalled his heartfelt apology and how hard it seemed to be for him to make it.  She wondered if he was truly apologetic at all.  But, now was not the time to think on such things.  Her papa was ill and she had to take care of him.

Setting down the tray, she frowned a bit when she noticed that he was awake.

Spectacles adorned his distinguished face as he read over the reports that Javert had left home. 

“Papa you should be resting,” she chastised softly.  She pulled the reports off of the bed and stacked them neatly on the bedside table.

“I am resting, child.  This is,” he blanched and beads of sweat started forming on his forehead.  He started to pant, rather than continuing his sentence about how he was in bed, therefore resting and how reading Javerts’ reports gave him the sense of knowing what Javert was dealing with outside of the house.  It gave them something to talk about and gave Jean an indication of what was going on in Javert’s head at any given moment.

“Oh papa,” she said, exasperated.  She quickly moved to the dresser and pulled a wash rag out of the wash basin that she had earlier filled with water.  Sitting beside him on the bed, she tapped the cloth against his forehead.  “You’re tired.  Please rest,” she pleaded.  She did not like to see her papa taxed so.  He had been ill most of the night, his stomach finally settling only a few hours before.  After seeing him to sleep, Cosette got a few hours of sleep, herself.  She was awoken by Javert’s call for her.  Pity tugged at her heart as she watched her papa in such obvious pain.

“No,” he sighed.  Regaining his composure, he continued on,“Has Javert come home?  I thought I heard his voice.”

“Yes, he bellowed for me as usual,” she said gently as she handed him the glass of water. 

He attempted to take a drink, but coughed wetly and winced, taking a labored breath.  “He doesn’t mean to be so forceful.  He likes when you’re there to meet him at the door.  It makes him feel wanted… like he home,” he explained breathlessly.  He felt as though his stomach was tied in knots.  He scanned the room for the second basin, which Cosette had brought in when he started becoming ill the night before. 

“I know,” she agreed, quietly.  She understood that Javert never had someone who wanted him around.  Therefore, he wasn’t certain how he should act.  She fingered a petal of the posie he had given her, which she had slipped into her hair.  She had been unnecessarily hard on him.  She figured he could handle it.  After all, he was the great Inspector Javert, feared by all.  Certainly, he could handle some confrontation at home.

“You’re still… angry… oh … Cosette…” His words became weak and breathy as he reached for the spare basin. 

She placed it on his lap, just in time for his body to reject what little sustenance he had put in it throughout the night.  He continued to strain long after his body had anything else to put out.  He rested back on his pillows, breathing heavily.  He allowed her to dab the cool cloth to his forehead.  “You shouldn’t be in here,” he said, turning away from her to cough. 

“I won’t eat the carrots,” she assured him.  Earlier that week, the magistrate of Paris had released an order that no one was to eat the carrots, as they contained cholera.  She recalled the symptoms from seeing them as a child, and her heart went out to her papa.  He had a long while of painful symptoms before his body would start to heal.  Were he not such a strong man, she would fear for his life, not just his health.

He nodded at her, coughing wetly again.  “At least Javert was out that night.  He, huh… he won’t be affected.” 

“Nothing seems to affect him,” Cosette agreed coldly. 

Jean looked at her seriously.  “Now that’s not true.  He hurts just like the rest of us.  But, he doesn’t have the liberty of showing it as easily.  In his line of work such things could get him killed or worse… make him wish he was dead.”  The thought of Javert dying on the job was something that made sleep nearly impossible for Jean – even on a good night.  “You’re just upset because he snapped at you.”

She nodded, not denying that fact. 

“Cosette,  I taught you better,” he snapped.  “Tolerance, patience… these are traits that you must have.”

Cosette looked down at her hands.  “I didn’t deserve his scorn, papa,” she retorted.  “I was only trying to help.”

He winced as another spasm of pain roiled through him.  When it passed he continued, “When you need to be alone, he and I both respect your wishes.  You should have respected his.”

When he put it like that, she saw his perspective.  But, that didn’t mean she necessarily agreed with it.  Javert had a hard life – there was no denying that.  But, her papa was always telling her how much they needed to show Javert that he was loved and wanted.  Really that’s all she was trying to do.  And, what did she get for her efforts?  Scorn.  It was simply too much for her to bear.

 


	3. Mustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With both Javert and ValJean symptomatic, talking happens. But, are the right words used?
> 
> Warning: More symtpoms of cholera are shown in this chapter. Again, I tried to be vague.

Javert scrubbed at his nose and looked at the cold tea in his hands. The tea felt as cold and lifeless as his heart.  It had all been too much.  All he craved was some solitude the night before.  Now he had more than he could handle.  The sun was rising in the sky and he heard Cosette go into her room.  His heart twisted in agony as he realized that he truly was not welcome here.  Not one to overstay his welcome, he decided to leave. 

His boots echoed as he walked up the stairs and to the room that he and Jean shared.  Nobody had ever shared a room with him before.  Nobody had liked him or cared about him well enough to bring him that close to them.  He was dangerous, stand-offish, cold.  

A chill raced through him and he shook as he grabbed for the door.  “Hetchum!” he sneezed wetly, catching it in his hand.  He looked at his hand with disgust and took a moment to wipe it off with his handkerchief. 

Suddenly, he felt congested – a symptom he had not felt in some time.  A quite ‘guh’ escaped from him as he blinked hard.  “Ep-PLESSSHHT!”  A wet sneeze exploded out of him, caught in the handkerchief.  Not one to pretend that reality was anything other than what it was, he sighed.  He was sick.  He hoped it was merely a cold and not something worse.  He had never taken a day off work before, but standing outside the Embassy with a fever or the flu was something that he did not relish doing again – especially in the frost.

Exhaustion seemed to leech out what little energy he had left and he leaned upon the door jam.  Lying his head on the door, he could hear Jean’s snores emanating from within.  He rubbed between his eyes.  That didn’t make one bit of sense.  Generally, Jean was up with the birds – either awake before Javert got home or coming in for breakfast soon thereafter.  Javert would eat breakfast with them and then they would go off on their day whilst he slept. 

Something had to be wrong if Jean was asleep and Cosette was in her room.  Certainly this couldn’t all be from his loss of temper the night before.

He opened the bedroom door quietly, as though he was entering enemy territory.  The room smelled of sick and sweat.  He cupped his handkerchief to his nose and mouth to deaden the scent as he walked across the room to the dresser, careful to put weight on his toes, rather than his heels, to prevent his boots from making noise.  Oh so carefully, he pulled out the drawers, wincing as they squeaked some.  She stole a look at Jean when the snoring stopped. 

His heart fell as he saw two observant brown eyes looking him over.  He analyzed his partner’s face for a moment.  The grey complexion.  The fever reddened cheeks and nose.  The chapped lips and fever soaked hairline.  The man had contracted cholera. 

“Where are you going?” Jean asked, his voice but a strained whisper.  His eyes flickered to the drawer and back to Javert.  The drawer held his uniform pants, not the shift that he would imagine Javert would want to slip into at this time of day.

Javert stood up straight and swallowed thickly.  “Cosette has informed me of your wishes.  As I am certain you no longer see me as fit to be around your daughter I am…” his words fell dead away as he watched Jean try to sit up. 

The man struggled to put his weight on his arms behind him.  Coming to his side, Javert put his hand on Jean’s shoulder to keep him lying down.  “You’re not well,” he whispered, his voice laced with concern.

Jean looked at him, his eyes serious.  “No, but I believe you’re delirious.  When did it hit you?” Jean asked, reaching a clammy hand out towards Javert’s face.

“I am not feverish.  I am dangerous.  You of all people know this.”  Javert said.

Jean whimpered as another spasm roiled through his body.  “I do,” he breathed, when it was over.   Haunted eyes gazed at Javert.  “Did you hurt my daughter?” he asked.  His voice was rough and weak, but it held an edge of protectiveness to it.

Javert dropped his gaze, shamed.  He recalled the tears in her eyes and the angry way she told him he was forgiven.  “I hurt her feelings, not her body or soul,” he answered honestly.  “I would never strike a woman.”  He stood at ease, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he waited for Jean to state that he had been cast out of his life forever.

“It happens.  She doesn’t… she oh dear,” he coughed harshly and reached for Javert.  “The wash room.  Bring me to the washroom, post haste,” he demanded, clumsily trying to get out of the bed.  The sheets tangled around his sweat soaked body and clung to him as though they thought it best that he stay in bed.

Javert deftly caught the struggling man and righted him on the bed.  He thanked heavens, not for the first time, that they had one of the few homes with an indoor wash room.  “Come on,” he said, pulling Jean to him and helping him down the hall.  No sooner had he deposited Jean with the chamber pot, than did the man start to relieve himself.   Javert put a basin in front of him as well, recalling the severity of the symptoms from when he was a guard at Toulon. 

He turned his back on Jean to give the man some privacy.  But, when he went to leave, he heard, “Please don’t get Cosette… I can’t… I can’t have her seeing me like this.”

Sweat rolled down Javert’s back and the fever that had been at bay within him finally took hold.  He was overheated and exhausted.  He needed to get Cosette.  Her papa needed her.  “What can I do?” he asked, leaning against the wall.

Jean was quite unable to answer for several long minutes.  When he was, the stench was unbearable and Javert thought he would be ill himself.  “Come, we must get that out of here,” he said, opening a window and pouring the contents into the street below.  When he went to help Jean rise to his feet, his own knees gave out however.  Javert sunk to the floor, panting.

“You too?” Jean asked, brushing back Javerts sweat soaked bangs. 

“No… not cholera,” Javert answered as he turned himself around and sneezed harshly into the back of his sleeve.  He froze as another sneeze exploded out of him.  And then another.

“Since when?” Jean asked, trying to stay his stomach.

“Just last night, I think.  It’s merely a cold, I believe.”  He lied.  It was the flu and he was well aware of that fact.  But, he would never be permitted to leave… did he need permission? He wasn’t certain.  His mind was becoming too clouded to think.

“Javert, the cha… the pots…” Jean gasped.

Understanding, Javert brought him the chamber pot and the basin.  He wet the cuff of his sleeve and pressed it to the back of Jean’s neck who prompt shied away from it.

“You’ll forgive me,” Jean panted when his body allowed him.  “But, I don’t recall the cuff of your wrist with fondness.”

Javerts’ eyes turned cold with the admission.  “Yes, of course.”  It was a wonder that the man recalled him with any fondness at all.  “I will have Cosette make you tea and something to stay your stomach.”  At Jean’s disgusted expression, he continued, “You must keep your strength up.”

Using the wall to pull himself up, Javert straightened his jacket and steadied his body.  All he would have to do was tell Cosette what Jean needed, pack his things and be on his way.  He had hurt this family long enough.

 


	4. Hemlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert wakes Cosette to care for ValJean, but winds up getting taken care of himself.

 Javert stood at attention, his hand poised to knock at Cosette’s door.  He was not certain how he would be received, especially since he was certain he wasn’t expected nor wanted.

A sharp cough escaped him and his vision faltered for a moment.  He wondered where he would go.  He knew he could afford a flat in the city.  Likely it was better for him to be closer to work anyway.

He rapped on her door swiftly and took a step back, standing at attention, as he waited for her to emerge.

Much to his dismay, he did not hear her open the door.  By the time he realized she was addressing him, she had her hand on his forehead.  He grunted as he flinched away from her touch.  Her cool hand felt good against his skin, but he knew he was not deserving of such care.  And, he knew that she did not want to give it.

“Javert?” she asked, her voice soft in the dimness of his consciousness.

“It’s your father.  He is unwell.  I highly suggest… sug… gest… Hetchum!”  He turned and caught the sneeze in his handkerchief.  “Chump!  Shhump!” Two more wetter sneezes followed and he relieved his nose stuffily afterwards.

“Bless you,” she said gently, her hand on his arm.  “You are not well, either,” she stated.

“I… I will be fine,” he said, drawing on his inner strength as though he were speaking to his men.  “Please make him tea, ginger if you have it.  Spearmint if you don’t.  He’ll need food that will stay his stomach and fill him.  Broth, rice, something like… like that.” 

He felt his eyes roll up into his head. He felt faint.  But, he could not draw such attention to himself.  He had to leave.  He had to let this family be happy without him.

“And what of you?” she asked, leading him down the hallway and to the bedroom he shared with her papa.  “Tea?  Toast?” Angry or not, the man was obviously unwell and needed care.  She expected him to argue with her, he generally did.  But, something she could not place was different about this time.

He leaned against the wall heavily.  His mind becoming cloudy with the weight of leaving, illness, and his inability to care for his partner.  “No… tea, maybe.  But, I … I need to go.”  He righted himself and took a few strong steps into the bedroom before feeling his balance falter.

Cosette was right by his side, her strong arms guiding him to the bed.  She removed his shift from the dresser and handed it over to him.

He took it with a  nod and then started to chuckled.  It was deep and quiet at first, but then became louder and higher pitched.  “What a fool you must think of me.  A weak old fool.”

Her brow creased with worry.  Javert was not prone to melodramatics and she had never seen him in such a state before. 

“How could I?  You… Inspector Javert.  Feared by all.”

“Yes, and loved by none,” he returned, pulling off his uniform jacket.

Cosette was aghast.  Certainly she had been upset, but he had been a true friend to her and her father’s only companion for many years.  She had never heard him speak this way, at least not of himself.

“To need care by the woman who doesn’t want to give it, because I abashed her the night before.  To take her care away from her father, who needs it so much more than I do…”  His nose wrinkled with an impending sneeze, which he spray into the crook of his elbow.  He seemed to forget that he took off his jacket, until the spray hit his arm.  And me, the _feared_ Javert, who is too weak to take care of the man he loves. “

“No,” she whispered softly.  She dipped the rag back into the water and brushed his forehead and cheeks with it.  She felt positively miserable when she heard that he thought she would not want to care for him.

“Do not concern yourself, Cosette,” he said, pulling on the shift.  He would wait until she left to take care of his pants.  “I will be gone from your lives soon enough.  Then you,” he suppressed a few coughs.  “Then you will be free to live in quiet harmony with your father… without my harshness disrupting the house.”

She looked at him sadly, certain that it had to be the fever talking.  Javert was never so free with his thoughts .  She sincerely hoped that they weren’t really his thoughts and that he knew he meant more to her papa and to her than how he portrayed himself.   “Come,” she said, as she pulled down the covers on his side of the bed.  “I will care for papa and bring him in when he is ready.”

He allowed himself to be tucked into bed – a true testament to how poorly he was feeling.  His eyes never left her angelic face as she bustled around the room. “Cosette?” he asked, starting to slip into a fitful sleep. 

“Yes?” she asked, petting his face with the wet rag again.

“If I fell… in the line of duty… would you come to my funeral?”  He was no longer looking at her, rather past her.

Uncertain if he could actually see her, or hear her for that matter, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.  “You know I would,” she said.

His eyes fluttered closed.  “Make plans,” he told her as he fell into a fitful sleep.


	5. Asmine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Javert rouses ValJean from fever dreams, a miscommunication makes him realize that he is truly unwanted Symptoms are very vague.

ValJean mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, punctuated by bursts of angry sounds.  Then he calmed himself until he started to snore, falling deep into slumber.  But, he’d always return back to the unintelligible angry mumbling.

Javert had woken in a sweat soaked haze.  He could feel the fever raging within him, but he was only able to rest intermittently.  Each time ValJean would yell, he would awaken again, ready to defend his lover to the death.  Finally, Javert could stand no more of it. 

“Shhh… Jean… shhh…,” he comforted, quietly.  Providing comfort was still foreign to him, but not so foreign as having it wanted.  He had often thought that he was lucky that ValJean was a strong man in mind and body, who did not need molly-coddling.  But, now, watching him suffer through his fever demons, Javert wished he had more practice.

Suddenly, ValJean’s muttering took a turn for the worse.  He started to thrash about, nearly clobbering Javert in the process.  His words became increasingly agitated. 

“No, no no,” Javert, tried to sooth.  He coughed harshly into a clenched fist.  He knew that he had to wake ValJean, but the man hadn’t seemed to have heard him yet.

“Monsieur le Mer,” he said, in his best inspector voice.

ValJean shook his head, as though he was shaking away a bad memory.  His face dripped with sweat and his breathing was becoming erratic. 

“Damn,” Javert swore.  He climbed out of bed, shivering as the cool air hit his fevered skin.  He wet a handkerchief and sat next to ValJean, on the edge of the bed.   He placed the handkerchief gently and swayed, dizzy from the effort. 

“Monsieur Madeleine,” he tried again, attempting every alias he knew of.  He figured that ValJean was lost deep in fever dreams.  All he had to do was find the right one.  A thought crossed his mind and he frowned.  He did not want to use that particular alias, but he would do as necessary to bring the man out of his current state.

After a few moments, he realized that ValJean was not going to awake.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “Lord, forgive me,” he uttered.  His eyes snapped open and he barked, “Two-four-six-oh-one!”

ValJean awoke with a start, shoving Javert away from him.  “I’m alive! Don’t thrash me!” he exclaimed, sitting up quickly.  His head swam and he gripped it in agony, upset that he was no longer asleep.  Angry, disoriented eyes focused on Javert.  “What are you doing here?” he barked.

Javert held his hands in front of him.  His shift was soaked most of the way through and his feet stuck to the wood floor as he tried to approach the bed.  “It’s all right, Jean,” he said in his most calm of voices.

ValJean’s eyebrows shot up.  “So, it’s Jean now is it?  Come to finish me off when I’m ill?  I expected better of you, Javert.  You’ve always been a formable adversary.  I never thought you were a coward as well.”

Javerts’ eyes narrowed with anger at the word ‘coward’.  “Jean, calm yourself,” he responded, anger hovering at the edge of his words.

“Get out!” ValJean insisted.

“Jean, I’m going to get you some water.”

“Get OUT!” ValJean yelled, throwing an item from the bedside table at Javert.

Javert backed himself against the wall. He did not wish to leave, mostly certain that this was the fever talking.  He recalled snapping at Cosette only a few nights earlier.  He looked out the window, the sun was starting to set.  Knowing that he would need to get to work soon anyway, he moved towards the dresser.  Pain squeezed around his heart.  “Just let me get my things and I’ll be on my way,” he said, pulling out his haversack and packing it quickly. 

“Papa, what is it?” Cosette asked, rushing into the room. 

“Cosette, oh…” ValJean whimpered.  “Do not… do not go near that man.  He’s… danger.”

“Papa,” she said, taking the already dry handkerchief and moving to rewet it, “that’s Javert.”

ValJean looked crushed.   “Then you know who he is,” he whispered, bowing his head.

“Of course I do, papa,” she said, sitting at the edge of the bed and reapplying the handkerchief. 

“Then you know he must go.  He is dangerous… he’s the enemy,” ValJean whispered to her.

His hearing as keen as ever, Javert squeezed his eyes shut against the dizzying fever and emotional hurt.  He redoubled his efforts to pack his things.  He pulled out a fresh uniform. 

“No, papa,” she responded, confused.  “This is _Javert_.  He lives here.”

“No!” ValJean insisted.  “He will not live under my roof.  Not him.  Not ever.  He is not welcome here.”  Turning to Javert he continued, “I don’t know what you were playing at, but you will put on your uniform and exit this house.  You are not welcome here.  Should you wish to resume our adversarial pursuit when I have recovered, I assure you that you’ll find us quite willing.”

Cosette looked between the two men, utterly confused.  “Pap-.”

“No, Cosette,” Javert cut in.  “He is right.  I had no business coming here.”  A harsh sneeze interrupted him and he sniffed thickly.  “If you would just permit me to put on my uniform, I will be on my way.”

“Javert, I…” she started, but trailed off at the hurt in Javert’s eyes.  “Yes, of course.  Come this way.”  When they were out in the hallway, she continued, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I’m certain it’s simply the illness talking.  Don’t go to work tonight.  You’re not well and this cold weather won’t help you any.”

Javert looked at the kind blonde before him.  “You are kind, my dear.  But, I am no longer welcome in this house.  I apologize for any hurt my presence has caused.  You shall not have to deal with it again.”

He disappeared into the washroom and put on his uniform.  It had only been mere hours before that ValJean had shown such care for his well being.  He stole a quick glance at himself in the mirror.  He truly did look worse for the wear: red rimmed eyes, paler than usual skin, pinked nose.  He sneezed harshly into a cupped hand.   “Ugh,” he moaned, leaning against the wall for a moment.  He knew where he would go.  This was all too good to last – too good for him.  He should have left long before.

When he emerged, he was surprised to find Cosette waiting for him. 

“Why is your haversack packed?” she asked, pointedly, her eyes narrowed with concern.

“I have to stay in the city, at least for a few days.  Just best I bring the… the things… I’ll – Hartccchh!” He sneezed freely to the side, too disoriented to cover it properly.  “Oh… do excuse me,” he said, breathlessly as he leaned on the wall behind him.

“Javert, please stay home.”

His eyes softened, taking her in, wishing that this wouldn’t be the last time he would see her.  Wishing that he had not come home from work and had pulled a double shift.  Wishing that he had been able to stay his temper in the first place or give her the apology she deserved.  Wishing he hadn’t been so naïve to believe that this could have worked out to begin with.   He suppressed a few coughs before replying.  “I wish I could.  But, it’s to home I go.  I cannot simply not show up for work.  It is not appropriate.  I will… uh… I will be in the city on business a few days.  Perhaps I will see you after.”

“What do you mean perhaps?” she interjected.

Why was she making this so difficult?  Why couldn’t she just let him go?

“You don’t need someone like me ruining what you and your father have.”

“Ruining?” she asked, but he continued as though he didn’t hear her.

“It is apparent that I have scorned you so badly that he will now repay in kind.  And so I go.”

“Scorned?  Javert, do you believe that these feverish ramblings are caused by the tiff you and I had?  I assure you – it is nothing.”

“It is kind of you to say so,” he stated, breathlessly, feeling as though his heart was going to pound out of his chest.  “But, you do not owe me anything.”

He felt his strength start to leech out of him again and knew that if he was going to leave it had to be quickly.  “Goodbye Cosette,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.  He shouldered his sack and walked out the door.

 _‘What just happened?’_ Cosette thought as she heard the door close.


	6. Lucerne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert arrives in Paris.

Javert felt as though he had been walking for years.  His fever had spiked as he rode his horse to Paris.  Even still, he had to ride hard to get into the city in enough time to secure a flat before work.  He trusted his horse not to let him fall as he passed in and out of consciousness.  Upon getting into the city, he stopped at a local boarding house that he heard his men talking about. 

Uncertain and uncaring of why they knew of the house, he was less than pleased.  While the outside looked hospitable enough, the front room was a tavern full of rabble-rousing carousers.  The door had initially been locked and Javert had to all but demand entrance.  Upon being granted entrance, he received wary looks and was careful to make eye contact with each person – asserting himself as the dominate presence in the room. 

Luckily, the owner of the house had granted him allowance and was giving him a tour of the boarding house, which was attached at the back end of the tavern.

He shivered under his cloak and sneezed harshly into a well-used handkerchief, only half listening as the owner of the boarding house as she walked him through.

“As you can see, I run a tight ship.  No dilly dallying.  The scum stay in the tavern for the most part.  You’ll likely not see them at all.  But, I must say, Inspector, were it anybody else, I would not even have opened my doors to you.”  She looked him over.

“Yes, as well you shouldn’t,” he praised, coughing into his handkerchief.

“Hm,” she grunted.  “Looks like you’ve done and caught yourself a chill,” she pointed out, gruffly.  “I’ll not have you in the common areas while you are unwell.”

“Truly, if you’ll simply allow me to put my things in my… in my… HARECTCHH!!”  Another harsh sneeze interrupted his sentence and he shivered again.  He wished he were with Jean and Cosette.  He knew that in better times, Jean would keep him company and make certain that he was warm.  Cosette would make certain that he had handkerchiefs and tea.  He could practically feel the vibrations of Jean’s warm voice as he closed his eyes.  He craved Cosette’s gentle touch on his neck and face, confirming her suspicions of a fever. 

“Yes, yes.  Though I don’t understand why you’d want to stay here.  Certainly the great Javert can afford better.  Or perhaps you’re looking for someone else?  Not here to cause any trouble are you?”

He suppressed a sneeze into his handkerchief.  “No ma’am.  I only expect to need the room for a short time.”

She grunted at him again and started leading him up the steps.  “I’ll expect a weeks’ payment upfront,” she said as she reached a room and opened the door. 

He nodded curtly, handing her the sum requested. 

He walked into the room and looked around.  The room reminded him of those that he had stayed in as a young man, before achieving his promotions.  Always low rent, minimally furnished, dark rooms.  He felt lucky that this room had windows – with shutters – and a working fireplace and a lock on the door.  He walked to the window and pulled the shutters closed before placing his haversack down and sitting on the bed, which groaned in protest. 

His heart clenched with unexpressed emotion.  He recalled how he so callously had yelled at Cosette.  It was only right that this be his punishment.  She represented beauty, purity, and refinement – all the things that he appreciated but was only ever able to observe from the outside.  Hurting her while within that situation… he deserved this.  He blinked hard, squeezing out the tears. He had gotten too comfortable living with them.  He truly believed that he was loved and wanted.  He truly thought that he could be himself there. How foolish he was.

He coughed harshly and pushed himself to his feet.  Grabbing another handkerchief, he readied himself for work.  He felt his temperature rising.  He took a few shaky breaths and strapped on his baton. 

He brushed away a rogue tear and prayed for his safety and that of his men.  With a final pang of regret and a turn of his stomach, he left for work.


	7. Get Him Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When ValJean finds that Javert has left, he vows to get him back.   
> Cholera symptoms are messy.

ValJean groaned as his stomach churned.  He coughed wetly and reached out to Javert’s side of the bed.  He frowned when he realized that he was in bed alone.  He opened an eye, to check what time of day it was.  He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but he knew that his body was not likely to allow him to remain so. 

Dark.

His eyes rolled up in the back of his head as the his stomach churned again – harder this time.  “Ugh!” he groaned loudly.  “Javert!” he called out.  He needed to go to the wash room again, but was concerned that Cosette would not be able to bear his weight. 

He didn’t hear Javert – or anyone – coming.  His breath started coming in harsh pants.  Quickly, he grabbed the basin and relieved his stomach.  The heaved loudly as the illness took over his body again.  He cried as the bile burned his chest and mouth.  His stomach continued to churn and he feared soiling their sheets.

“Jav… please….”  He vaguely recalled Javert being ill.  He hoped the other man had fallen asleep in the study or while speaking with Cosette.

Cosette. 

For one hard moment, he thought something may be wrong.  She was a very attentive daughter, and he couldn’t understand where she was when he needed her.  But, the clock chimed twice and he understood that they were both asleep.

As carefully and quickly as he could muster, ValJean made his way to the wash room, using the wall to steady himself.  But, his stomach seized and he fell to the floor in a heap.  “No… no…” he whispered, sweat and tears co-mingling on his face as he soiled his shift.  He was no longer in control of his body as he lay on the hallway floor.  Bile seeped from both ends, as waves of intensity roiled through him. 

He heard light footfalls coming towards him.  Cosette.

“No… no…,” he breathed.  “Stay away!” he commanded, as the stench filled the hallway.

“Papa!” she exclaimed, rushing to his aid.  She wiped his sweat soaked bangs off of his face and tried to help him stand.

He grunted with the strain and his knees gave way again.  “Get Javert,” he ordered, breathlessly.  “You should not see this.  Get… get…”  He was interrupted as his stomach rebelled again, causing him to shriek in pain.

She ran to the wash room and wet several small towels.  “Come now, rest yourself,” she said, applying the towels to him in an effort to lower his body temperature.  “I’m going to draw you a bath and we’ll have you cleaned up in no time.”

He reached his hand out for her, grasping her arm lightly.  “Where is Javert?” he asked, his eyes pleading with her to tell the truth.

“He said he had some business to attend to in town,” she replied simply. 

“But… but he was ill.”

She nodded simply.  “Indeed he was.  But…” she wondered if she should tell him that he cast Javert out.  “You said that he was no longer welcome in our house.  I think compounded with his fever, he was unable to-.”

“Excuse me?” ValJean asked when his body calmed down some.  “Did you just say I told him that he was no longer welcome?”

“Indeed you did, papa.”

ValJean bent his head in regret.  He had long known of Javert’s insecurities of being accepted and wanted.  _He’s not coming back_ , he told himself.  A hurtful chill crept over his body.  “No,” he looked up at Cosette.  “We must go to Paris.  We must get him back.”  He coughed wetly again.

“We will, papa,” Cosette assured him quietly.   


	8. He's Really Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette and ValJean deal with the fact that Javert may really be gone - forever.

The sun rose over the hills spreading its rays over the countryside, waking the inhabitants as it did so.  The rays finally reached into Cosette’s bedroom, illuminating her soft features as it did so.  She shifted in her sleep as her body tensed.  She knew she had about three hours until Javert arrived home. 

The prior day had been tediously difficult for all within the house.  Between her papa contracting cholera a few days before, her tiff with Javert, and Javert’s illness and departure the feeling in the house had changed.   She allowed herself to sleep in a bit since Javert wouldn’t be home for several hours. 

Large, blue eyes blinked in the morning sunlight as a sigh escaped her lips.  If he came home that was.  She recalled how fearful she had been of him when he first started hanging around them.  His voice, especially his drunk or angry voice sounded peculiarly like the officer who had chased them after her papa had taken her from the Thenardier’s.  He was strict and withdrawn, but slowly showed his kind and giving side.  She was less surprised than she would have thought she’d be when Javert and her papa started becoming closer.  She had heard of such things and seen much as a child.  But, she had never seen two men who loved, understood, and respected each other as much as her papa and Javert.

Certainly the neighbors whispered about their family, but she paid them no mind.  Family came first.  After lying in bed a bit longer, she got up and began her morning chores.  Her papa hated that she worked so hard to run the house, but she knew it was her duty as a woman to make certain that certain things were handled. 

Her heart felt heavy as she feared that Javert may not return.  She knew that her papa wouldn’t simply accept that the other man had left, especially after he found out why.  _After the choleric episode, Cosette had helped her papa into the bath, much to his humiliation.  She refused to leave his side, even after he had submersed in the water, telling him she didn’t care how proper it was.  She was not going to leave him alone after such an instance.  She was fearful that he would become symptomatic again and did not want to be far away from him if he did. Luckily, there was not a repeat of the episode and she was able to get him back into bed clean though still feverish.  Much to her delight, he felt to sleep quickly and without pain.  She had planted a gentle kiss on his feverish brow, noticing that the saltiness had gone from his sweat.  She realized that he was dehydrating and made the note to supply him with tea when next he awoke._

_After cleaning the mess from the hall and eating some dinner, she wrote a note to be delivered to the Embassy in the morning.  Javert had to know that they needed him.  She had to be certain that he knew they wanted him to come home._

She waited with baited breath, watching the door for him to come home and call for her.  She had never paced so much in her life, the anxiety coursing through her veins like a palpable force.  She went outside and checked the stable a few times, just making certain that Javert had not stopped there before heading inside.  Neither he nor his horse were there.

She sighed sadly as she realized that he was not coming home.  He was gone.  They had chased him away.

Not one to take the situation lightly, she grabbed the letter that she had written and traipsed into the garden.  She hoped that the neighbor boy was out doing his chores. She knew that for a few napoleons and a kiss on the cheek, he would do anything for her.

She smiled when she saw him and asked him to put the letter into the hands of Javert and he only.  If he was not there, he had instructions to bring the letter back to her.  The letter’s return cost her another kiss, which she paid, teasing him a bit as she did.

When she returned to the house, her papa’s congested snores could no longer be heard.  She rushed into his room, tea in hand.  “Morning, papa.”

He looked at her with red, tired eyes.  “Has Javert returned?” he asked, breathlessly. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him the tea.  “No,” she said, quietly. 

He closed his eyes, a pained look crossing his face.

She stiffened, uncertain if he was becoming emotional or symptomatic. 

His breath became shaky and he covered his eyes as tears leaked from them.

She frowned and pulled him close to her as tears and gasping breaths emanated from him.  “It’s all right, papa.  We’ll get him back.”

“No… no…” he mumbled.  “Javert does not suffer fools lightly.  He will not simply come back here.  He likely feels as though he has been foolish for believing that he was wanted at all.”

“What?” she asked.  Even when she was unloved by the Thenardier’s, she always knew that her mama loved her.  “What was his childhood like?” she asked, trying to place how such a strong and wonderful man could think so little of his effect on others.

ValJean sat up and leaned against his pillows.  “No, that’s not my story to tell.  But, working his way up the way he has, his perfectionism… he’s isolated himself… made enemies.  Certainly he’s feared, tolerated, respected… but at what cost?”

Cosette looked down sadly.  She deeply regretted the way she had treated him.  She hadn’t realized what a sanctuary he likely considered home.  She felt good making him feel sad as punishment for making her feel sad and unappreciated.  But, she had been confident that it would blow over.  Apparently, he did not share the confidence. 

“What did I tell him?” ValJean whispered, his voice tight with unreleased emotion. 

She snapped out of her thoughts.  “Um…  you asked what he was playing at and said that you would not ever all him to live under your roof.  You called him dangerous and insisted that he leave.”

ValJean released a shaky breath.  “He’s not coming back,” he said quietly.  “It doesn’t matter what we do.  He’s too proud.  He’s nobody’s whipping boy.  If I cast him out in such a fashion, he won’t come-,” his voice broke and struggled to stay his emotions. 

Cosette watched sadly.  She hoped that Javert would receive the letter that she wrote and come back to them.  She noticed the files her papa was reading the other day.  “What cases was he working on?” she asked, hoping that he would come back for his files at least.

ValJean shook his head.  Javert had been working on infiltrating a corruption ring within the prefect system.  If anyone could do it, he could.  His other case had to do with chasing down a murderer who liked to leave his victims in chains with their tongues removed.   The man saw horror and desolation all night.  When he came home, he deserved to be loved, respected, and to know that he could process the horrors of his job however he needed without being scorned.  But, he had been.  First, scorned by Cosette and then cast out by him.  Worse yet, ValJean knew that Javert likely thought he deserved to suffer.  That his being cast out was his punishment for letting down his guard.  Even if Javert did come back to them, ValJean wondered how deep the damage went.


	9. Bring Him Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette and ValJean get the letter no one wants to receive. And Cosette is having none of it. (Title taken from Les Mis song (obviously)).

It was mid-afternoon when an unexpected knock came at the door. 

ValJean was asleep again, his snores rattling the doors throughout the house.  Cosette was relieved that he had not been symptomatic again.  In fact, since the incident in the hallway, he had not been symptomatic again.  Cosette was starting dinner, hoping that Javert would return the next day.  He had said that he had business in the city… a few days’ worth in fact.  Perhaps that wasn’t a rouse.  Perhaps he really had business.  She hoped that he would return to them in the morning.  She could not wait to ask his forgiveness.  She knew that she needed his before she could forgive herself.

When she heard the knock, she couldn’t help but feel hopeful that he had received her letter and come home.  She rushed to the door, throwing it open without even peeking out the window first.  But, she was not greeted by the sight of the man she had come to love and respect like a second father.  Instead, there was another man there – one in uniform. 

“Excuse me, mademoiselle,” the officer said formally, bowing curtly to her. 

She curtseyed and moved aside to let the man in.  She did not know him, but it was obvious that he worked with Javert.  She took a deep breath in, concerned as to why he was there. 

He shook his head and handed her a letter.

She winced gently, fearful that someone else had read her letter and Javert had been humiliated.  “What is it?” she asked, taking it in a shaking hand.

“Mademoiselle, I regret to have to inform you that Javert has been injured in the line of duty.  He is being held at the infirmary of the station of police.”

A hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.  “How does he fare?” she asked, fearful of the response.

The officer shook his head.  “Not well.  The doctor has seen him – as well as the surgeon.  They are concerned that infection has already set in.  Neither wish to operate because of his fever.”

“No,” she mumbled.  “What… what is the injury?”  She ran through the mild procedures that she could perform.  “What was the injury?”

“The Embassy was infiltrated by a hoard of people last night.  He got into a brawl and wound up stabbed in the side.  He’s lost a lot of blood…”

“Bring him here,” Cosette blurted out.

“No, he is not stable enough to travel,” he countered.

“Bring. Him. Here,” she insisted again.  Her tone and expression broached no room for argument.  “Before he gets worse.  I have mended him before and through worse.  I will do so again.  Put opium on the wound, wrap it up and bring him here.”  She glared at the young officer, noticing the dickies on his uniform.

“My prefect…”

“You’re prefect is his prefect and Javert is your superior officer.  You will bring him here.”  She knew that she was being irrational.  But, she couldn’t help it.  Had her papa been feeling better, she would have insisted that they be brought to Javert.  As it was, she knew she couldn’t leave him alone, so she needed Javert brought to her.

“It’s dangerous,” the officer protested.

“So is leaving him there without care.  Please.  Bring him here.  I…” she struggled to find a payment for him.  She scanned his hand and didn’t notice a ring.  “I’ll let you take me to the next officer’s ball.”

The officer paused for a moment.  “A deal then.”

“A deal,” she agreed.

“But, if he dies, you’ll still be my date.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, ready to promise anything to make them bring Javert home.

After he left, she wrung her hands trying to think of all the things she would need.  She didn’t know how deep the wound was, but stitches were easy enough done.  She knew the herbs that she would need to make into a paste could be found in the garden.  She pulled out the tincture of turpentine and laudanum.  She opened one of the spare bedrooms and dusted feverently.

“Cosette?” her papa called.

She rushed in, her face smudged with dust.  “Yes, papa?” she asked.

“What is going on?” he asked, looking her over. 

She smiled as she noticed the color coming back to his face.  “Javert has been wounded, stabbed,” she answered, bluntly – her mind racing too fast for her to answer tactfully.

ValJean winced as though it was he who had been wounded.

“The officer dropped this off,” she said, handing him the now wrinkled letter.  “He said the physician and surgeon had been to see him and didn’t want to work on him because they believed infection had set in due to the fever.  I don’t think that they realize that the fever is because of his illness.  I can stitch him up papa.”

He nodded.  “Of course you can, but you’re not a doctor, Cosette.  If they cannot save him.”

“I can!” she practically yelled.  “Please papa, just … just…”  Too upset to finish her statement, she rushed out of the room to continue.

ValJean rubbed his sinuses, which had begun to tingle.  With trembling hands he opened the letter.

_We regret to inform you that Inspector Javert has been wounded in the line of duty and is mortally wounded.  Should you wish to pay your last respects, he is being kept in the infirmary of the station of police.  We require to know where you would like him buried, and will transfer the body to the graveyard of your choice.  All costs will be billed directly to you._

_Should you not have a cemetery of choice, or not be able to afford a proper burial, he will be buried in the common cemetery in an unmarked grave._

_Sincerely,_

_His Prefect_

He crumpled the letter in his hand.  Cosette was right: Javert was not dead yet.  And, he would be damned if he was going to let Javert die thinking that he was not loved by the two people who loved him the most.


	10. A Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young officer brings Javert to Cosette and ValJean. The three of them work to keep him alive.

Red and orange explosions of pain erupted in Javert’s head as he came to consciousness with a thunderous sneeze.  The sneeze bent his body in half and caused the colorful explosions to fade to white.  He felt like he was screaming, but he couldn’t hear it.  His body burned and he strained to get away from the heat.  But, try as he might, he felt as though he was held in place.  Burning, searing pain cut through his side and he struggled to breath.  Realization came to him as he dropped back out of consciousness: he was in Hell.

“No, no, Inspector.  You must stay calm,” his subordinate said, his low tenor seeming to sooth the man.  It had been no easy feat to get Javert released from the infirmary.  But, he recalled the young beauty who had promised him a date and he pulled a few strings, lying and saying that he found a surgeon who would treat him and insisting that he would not stand idly by and let the him die. 

He never realized how much the carriage jostled down the streets of Paris.  It only got worse as they reached the dirt roads of the country.  The young officer found himself molly-coddling the great Inspector Javert, pulling him onto his lap in order to get a better handle on him.  Javert was heavy, the dead weight pressing against the young officer’s legs.  But, he could feel Javert’s breathing and if he could get the man to his home alive, then that was all he had promised to do.

He had rested his head back, struggling to hold on to Javerts frame, when the sneeze erupted out of him.  The young officer had grimaced in disgust as the spray drenched his coat.  But, the disgust was soon forgotten as Javert started to yell.  The young officer started talking to him, wishing that he had something to bring down Javert’s fever.  He knocked on the carriage wall, signaling for the driver to go faster.  He feared the Inspector didn’t have much time left.

By the time they arrived at the house, Javert had started muttering.  Only after he realized there was a rhythm to the murmurs did the young officer realize that Javert was saying The Lord’s Prayer: Javert thought he was dying.  Unable to lift Javert’s body on his own, he went to the door to let the lady of the house know they had arrived.  He took several steps back when a large, distinguished looking man met him at the door.

“Where is he?” Jean asked.  His fever had not decreased, but he knew Cosette would need help getting Javert into the house.

“In the carriage,” the young officer said, starting to double back.  ValJean followed him to the carriage and gasped when he saw Javert.  The man’s pallor matched the grey flecks that accentuated his deep brown hair.  His uniform jacket was elsewhere, revealing a  shirt that was once white, but was now brown with dried blood with one still red stain near his right side.  His breathing was shallow and his eyes would flutter open and closed seemingly without his intent.

Dizziness quickly overcame ValJean.  The love of his life was so near death that he could smell it in the air.  His nostrils twitched at the scent and he turned around, clasping his hand over his mouth as he sneezed violently.

“Bless you, monsieur,” the officer said, climbing back into the carriage.  “If you’ll carry his bottom half…”

“No,” ValJean said, leaning into the carriage and lifting Javert as though he was a small, sleeping child.  He shivered as he forced himself not to press a kiss to the side of the man’s head.  Javert was a private man and it was obvious to ValJean that he would not have spoken of their relationship.  No, he could not risk such a discovery.

He laid Javert down in the sick room and gazed at the man.  The gray pallor of his skin was contrasted deeply by his pinked nose and the growing pink in his cheeks.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, ValJean recalled the pinked nose and cheeks being the sign of cherubs… or winged children.  He wondered briefly if that was because the children had died of a fever.  Quickly as it had come, he pushed the thought out of his head.

Turning away, he sneezed violently again and sniffed.  Realization of why his fever was not going down struck him.  He had contracted Javert’s ailment. 

Cosette came in with a pot of boiled water, in which she had the needle and a few other simple tools to clean out the wound.  She looked at her papa, who seemed dazed.  “Are you going to be able to assist?” she asked,” as she took each item out of the pot, the water scorching her slender, pale hands as she did so.

ValJean pressed a hand over his nose and mouth and took a few stumbling steps away before, “HARTCHM!!!!  Heh…eh…ETCHOO!”  His stomach churned again and he let out the stink of sulfur. 

She looked at him softly as he pawed at his itchy nose.  “I can’t have you in here,” she said.  “He’s too weak already. “  She didn’t mean to be so harsh with him, but even if it was the same ailment that Javert had, if an unexpected sneeze took hold of him and surprised her, she was fearful of how she could hurt their friend.

He coughed gruffly and sat down at the end of the bed.  He recalled Javert sneezing and even sinking to his knees.  The man had looked tired, but was still intent on to care for ValJean.  “I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“He didn’t want you to,” she stated absently as she set aside the medicines she expected to need.  “Can you pull him into a sitting position?” she asked, looking past ValJean and to the young officer at the door. 

The man nodded and came into the room, sitting on the opposite side of the bed in order to do as he was asked.

“Javert, this is going to hurt,” she told him.  Although she was uncertain if he could hear her, she wanted to give him the respect of knowing what was going on, even if it was only subconsciously.  She went to pull the shirt over his head and the young officer wince.

“No Cosette. Give me the shears,” ValJean said from behind her. 

She did as she was asked and watched as he cut the shirt off of Javert, revealing a deep puncture wound on the side.  The blood around the wound was still fresh. 

“It wasn’t even cauterized!?” she exclaimed, looking accusingly at the young officer.   “I told you, they wouldn’t treat him because of the fever!” he retorted.  

She thought about the tools they had in the house.  She heard her papa leave the room and put the thought out of her mind, confident that he would handle it.  She pulled the tools she had boiled out of the pot and placed them on a clean white cloth.  She dipped a handkerchief into the water and pet Javert’s fevered face.  “It’s okay, Javert.  I’m here.  You’re home.  You’re safe.  And, we’ll take care of you.”  She held her breath, hopeful that he would respond.  At all.  Even a little. 

He groaned a bit and opened his eyes.  Distant eyes looked through her.  “Fantine?” he asked, a slight tremble in his raspy voice.

Cosette closed her eyes against the fear and swallowed hard.  “Cosette, Javert.  I’m Cosette.”

He looked at her questioningly, as though he really didn’t know who she was.

“You’re safe,” she whispered. “See,” she gestured at the young officer.  “He’s here to oversee your care.”

Javert looked at the young officer and smiled. 

He looked back at Cosette and nodded.  “Continue,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut again.

She grunted uneasily.  She was certain that he had no earthly clue what was about to happen.

ValJean returned with the fireplace poker, the tip was orange and yellow. 

“What?” she squeaked as he made his way to Javert.

“It’s the best way,” he insisted.

“NO!” Cosette insisted.  She poured the rest of the water over Javerts’ chest, letting it wash away the blood and flow over the wound. 

“Cosette!” ValJean barked, coughing from the effort. 

“No, it’s barbaric and I won’t let you!” she fought.  She grabbed the oil of turpentine and wet a handkerchief with it.  She placed it on Javert’s wound and jumped back as he jumped up.  “No, no, it’s okay.”  She rewet the handkerchief with the oil and guided the cloth into the wound, feeling the edges with her finger.

Javert jumped and yelled out, but the younger officer restrained him.

“And that was less barbaric?” ValJean asked.

She rolled her eyes.  “The doctors say it is,” she answered, trying to keep both her concentration and her temper.

“And since when do you share your time with doctors?” he asked.  He was teasing, trying to break the tension.

“The ladies talk at the sewing circle,” she started babbling.  She knew that her papa humored her when she shared gossip.  But, it drove Javert out of his mind, so she refrained from doing so within the house.  “You see, Mrs. Le Fey’s oldest daughter married a doctor who studied at the Royal College of Physicians in London.  And, _he_ says that people are more likely to die from the military medicine than by using general medicines.  So, the turpentine, she says, will help stop the bleeding, but not cauterize the wound like the poker.  _And_ she said that people who use turpentine are less likely to get infected. 

Javert’s mouth started to twitch.  Then his nose.  He breathing hitched, but no sneeze came.  And then another hitch without a sneeze.  Soon his breath was rapidly hitching. 

“He can’t breath,” she mumbled.  “Papa, please get his snuff.”

“Cosette, this is not the time for a pinch,” he admonished.

“No, it’s exactly the time!” she yelled.

Confused, ValJean went and got the snuff box.

When he handed it over, Cosette took a pinch.  She grabbed a handkerchief and pressed it against Javerts’ mouth.  When he took a deep sniff through his nose, she was ready with the snuff.

A violent, wet, sneeze exploded out of Javert, tossing him forward.  Cosette felt as the handkerchief moistened.  She repeated the action, wiping his nose and mustache afterwards.  She smiled as his breathing evened out again.

“That was brilliant,” the officer whispered in awe.

“You never saw anything,” she admonished in a tone very similar to ValJean’s.

“Never,” the young officer agreed.

She reached for the needle and thread.  She dipped the needle into the tincture of rhubarb and started to sew the stitches. 

Javert jumped and gasped in pain, but the young officer held him down.

ValJean moved closer to him.  “Javert, I know what you thought you heard, but this is home.  And you are welcome here.”

Javert’s eyes fluttered open.  “Jean?” he whispered.  “You’re here?”

ValJean stood to his full height, afraid that if he got too close the wetness on his cheeks would be apparent.  “Of course.  You’re home.  Where else would I be?”

Javert looked around.  “This is not home.  I… thought I deserved better… you… you most certainly do.”

ValJean waited until Cosette paused and then sat on the bed.  He turned to the officer.  “Could you give us a moment.”

“Of course,” the young officer said, leaving quietly.

“Don’t go too far.  I may need you later,” she said absently.

“I’ll be right by the door,” he answered, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

ValJean took a shaking breath.  “Javert.  I deeply and humbly apologize.  I beg your forgiveness, which I know you will not give.  But, I – I was feverish.  I didn’t… know what I was saying.  I…”  He folded in half as sobs wracked his body. 

Cosette finished sewing the wound closed. “There,” she said.  “Now we wait.”

ValJean felt a hand on his head.  Thinking it was Cosette, he merely sobbed harder.  But, as the hand started to move against his head, he realized that it was too heavy to belong to his lovely, delicate, gentle daughter.

“Jean… I am … apologetic… that my… existence in your life is … “ he coughed wetly before continuing,  “that my existence has… caused you… to fall into eternal damnation.”

Cosette covered her mouth with her hand, leaving dried blood streaks on her cheek.  She gasped with a sob.  “He thinks he’s in hell.”

Javert turned to Cosette.  “My angel,” he said, his breath beginning to hitch again.  “Your mother… I damned… to death.  It is my shame.  My… penance was not enough to save my soul.  I did not… mean… to drag you to Hell with me.”  He coughed violently.

ValJean helped Javert sit up, as Cosette guided a glass of water to his lips, instructing him to drink.  After a few sips, they laid him back down.  And watched as his breathing evened out as he fell into a deep sleep.

They looked at each other desperately, fearful that he may not awaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a new post shortly. Don't worry, this is not the end. There is much healing to happen.


	11. Cosette's Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette prays for the recovery of Javert.

Cosette lie awake in her bed.  Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.  “I’m sorry… Javert, I’m sorry…” she whispered into the dark night.  She recalled _watching him as he brood alone, staring into the distance.  He mouthed silent words as stared at a flickering flame.  Her papa had tried to talk with him, but Javert turned away from him.  She couldn’t help but feel protective when she saw them flinch away from each other.  After squeezing her papa’s hand before he walked, dejectedly into their bedroom, she knew she had to help their friend and confident._

_She made Javert his favorite tea and placed it on a table beside him. She watched as discreetly as she could as it cooled._

_“Javert, please,” she said, bringing him another cup of tea.  She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Drink.  It’s good for you.”_

_He placed his hand upon hers.  “Thank you, angel.  But, I cannot… not right now.”_

_She left the cup in case he changed his mind.  She returned to the kitchens to get him a few scones.  He didn’t usually get so standoffish before work.  Sometimes he was before he left, but typically he started his days fresh.  She thought that perhaps he was hungry.  She knew that his appetite was temperamental at best and that his job did not lend itself to eating heavy foods or at all, depending on how disgusting his cases were._

_She placed the plate of scones next to his untouched tea.  “Please eat,” she said, gently.  “Javert, I’m worried.”_

_He started out of his thoughts and looked at her like she was a stranger.  “Don’t be,” he whispered absently.  “Please just leave me to my thoughts.”_

_She sighed and sat across the room.  She picked up her needlepoint and worked on it as the sun went down.  When it had become too dark for her to continue, she looked up at him.  He was still staring into the distance, confined in his own head with his thoughts._

_“I hear that Napoleon supporters are talking of rioting again.  You won’t be called into that, will you?” she asked._

_Nothing._

_A little while later, she tried again. “You know, I was talking with Betty Ann and she said that you have been seen speaking to the tavern-keeper, more often than is natural, for a man of your stature.  If you’re working undercover, you’re getting a little obvious,” she offered._

_Nothing._

_“Javert?”_

_He stood up suddenly and took a few angry steps towards her.  “I said I do not wish to talk!” he snapped.  “What about that is so difficult for you to understand?  Can’t a man just be alone with his thoughts without mindless nattering?  You’re a smart young lady, you should be able to follow the simple instructions of leave me alone!”_

_She hadn’t meant to cry, but a she felt a few rogue tears slip out and she brushed them away quickly.  She took her needlepoint to another room, lit a few candles and continued there.  Not long after Javert had come in and apologized._

_She was stunned.  He never apologized… at least not with words.  If he felt that he had wronged one of them, he would bring them a small token after work.  She would get a French posie, and her father would get a new book.  But, neither of them thought he was capable of a verbal apology and had long since stopped expecting one._

_But, she was still upset. She forgave him, but didn’t attempt to mask the upset._

Two more tears slipped down her cheeks and she hid under the covers as she started to sob. 

_That night, her papa had become symptomatic.  He was awake and ill most of the night.  So, by the time Javert got home she was exhausted, concerned, and still a little hurt.  She knew she was being cold, but she just couldn’t be as affectionate as she typically was._

“I’m so sorry, Javert,” she continued to whisper. 

After she calmed herself down, she got out of bed and knelt by the bed.  “Lord, I know my life has been blessed and that I don’t have the right to ask you for more.  But, don’t think of this as for me, but for Javert.  We do love him.  And, he is a good man.  He upholds the King’s law admirably, even when it is hard.  Even when he yearns not to.  He makes certain to abide by your laws as well.  And that’s a fine line to ride.”  She sighed.  “Please, Lord, if you do see fit to call him home… please don’t deliver him to Hell.  He’s a good man and he deserves better.  Amen.”

Guilt crushed her chest.  If Javert deserved the pits of Hell, she did too. 

Soft tears ran anew as she climbed back into bed and continued to whisper her apologies.

 


	12. ValJean's Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean prays over Javert's sleeping body. And offer's the Lord a compromise in trade for Javert's admission to Heaven or recovery.

ValJean crept quietly into the sick room.  Javert was still sleeping deeply.  Too deeply.  The man didn’t sleep this deeply even when he was well.  Perhaps especially not. 

Javert was constantly worried about something.  Worried about work.  Worried about a case.  Worried about a felon, a murderer, or some other convict.  Worried about Cosette’s future.  Worried about his past.  Worried about ValJean.  Worried about their future.  Worried about being good enough: for God, for the prefects, for ValJean, for Cosette, for society.  The poor man had been born in shame: out of wedlock to a gypsy in jail.  He was removed from the prison early in life and put into an orphanage, soon after the Revolution, where he stayed and studied until he aged out of it.  He didn’t make many friends, turning instead to his studies.  He entered the military and survived, which was no small feat.  But, without friends or family, he turned to the newly formed prefect and law system to find a place to belong.  Luckily, it suited him. 

He sat on the bed and brushed his hand against his boyfriend’s cheek.  He was still burning hot. 

ValJean dipped a cloth into the basin of water and mopped Javerts’ face with it.  “You know, I would do anything to make you well again,” he said, quietly. 

He turned and sneezed violently.  He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that filled his head. “Excuse me,” he breathed, exhaustion filling his body.  He sighed heavily, turning back towards Javert. 

“You are always welcome here.  By my side is where you belong, as long as you want to be there.”  He thought about what Cosette said that he did and an icy chill crept through his body.  He knew that Javert would not likely want to stay.  He knew that he had driven the man out of his life. 

A bitter laugh escaped him.  When he had left Toulon, Javert was the best thing to leave behind.  For years he fled the man’s eye.  But, after he had caught it in a better way…  he never wanted to lose it again.

He thought about the preceding days. He had been so sick that he didn’t know what he was saying.  He hoped that when Javert awoke, he would be able to forgive him.  Forgiveness… something that Javert was not known for.  But, ValJean knew it was possible.  Javert forgave many trespasses against him.  He only hoped that this trespass wasn’t too deep. 

He bowed his head in prayer.  “Lord, I know I have asked you for much in life: a new life, health, Cosette’s love, Javert’s loyalty.  And you have granted them all.  I know I don’t have the right to ask you not to take him home.  Instead, I ask that if you do decide that his time on this earth is through, that you admit him to your kingdom of Heaven.  He may have chosen the wrong path a time or two,” he thought of Fantine.  When Javert asked for her, it tied his heart in knots.  He knew that Javert carried deep regret over his treatment of Cosette’s mother.  But, he truly did not know that she had a child who she thought was dying.  He had been lied to so many times that he learned to trust his discretion rather than the possibility that it could be different.  “But, he is a good man, with a good heart, and good morals and values.  He keeps us safe.  He keeps Paris safe.  He speaks your word.  One cannot ask for a better man.  I know I cannot.”  He wiped a tear from his eye.  He considered asking the Lord to take himself instead.  However, he couldn’t abandon Cosette like that.  The poor girl had been born without a father in the picture, her mother was dead, if he died too… especially without knowing that Javert would care for her.  He figured Javert would not abandon Cosette, but he couldn’t beg for the trade without _knowing_ that she would be well cared for. Then he realized that that sort of thinking wasn’t appropriate for a his plea for Javert’s admission into Heaven.   “If you see fit, you may take me instead.  I have not lived as pious a life, but I have tried.  I have broken one of your commandments – stealing.  If you would admit me, then admitting him cannot be so difficult.”  He swallowed.  “If you felt the need to take me and not admit me to Heaven, you could trade our souls.  I would … I would understand.”

He looked at Javert’s still, sleeping form.  “I will do whatever it takes to fix this,” he promised both Javert and the Lord.  “Amen,” he whispered.

He looked at Javert.  “I know you’re not one for many displays of affection.  But, I _do_ love you.  And I always will. “

He bowed his head and sobbed.


	13. Words Left Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean and Javert try to talk, but things don't go as expected.

Javert’s nose twitched.  He snuffled stuffily.  And then, “Hep-TCHOO!”   The sneeze sprayed freely in the morning light.  He screamed in pain and looked around as he regained his breath.  His hand pressed hard against his stitched wound.  As the pain subsided, he looked around the room. 

This wasn’t the station infirmary.  It wasn’t even the Paris Hospital.  It was warm, inviting.  Clean, well maintained.  He was home.  “How did I get here?” he whispered, confused. 

He blinked heavily as another sneeze exploded out of him.  This one was messier than the last and he reached over to the bedside table.  There were a meager amount of handkerchiefs.  _That’s not like Cosette_ , he thought, snatching one and blowing his nose fully. 

A shot of pain radiated from his wound and he gasped in pain.  He held his breath until the pain passed.  He was home and stitched.   He was safe.  Or was he?

He recalled the fight.  People had stormed the Embassy, desperate for a reprieve from the early winter.  Pierre and he had done their best to calm them and send them away, but violence broke out.  Javert knew that he had a fair amount of boxing skill, but he hadn’t expected the knife to penetrate his side.  He had tried to continue fighting, but fell to his knees and blacked out quickly. 

He vaguely remembered traveling in the coach to hell.  The flames burning him at the core.  He thought he remembered seeing Fantine, but that couldn’t be.  She had died many years before… no thanks to him.  He took a deep breath and swallowed the old guilt.

He was home… in ValJean’s home… Cosette’s home.  He recalled being asked to leave.  And he had, he recalled it.  But, he was back here.  Had it all been a dream?   He was so confused.

“HetCHUM! Puh-ugh… HetshTCHUM!”  He groaned as the pain continued to shoot up his side.  He blew his nose fully, pleased that some of the congestion was finally releasing.

The door opened a crack and he froze.  He put on his most stoic face and expected to be told that he needed to leave.  To his credit, he didn’t remember how he got there to begin with.

Cosette peaked her head in.  A full smile blossomed over her face.  “Javert! You’re awake.  Papa, come quick!” she called down the hall.  She rushed to Javert’s side, placing her cool hands on his still fevered face.  He, subconsciously, leaned towards the touch.  He hands felt so gentle and cool.  Her touch was wanted, yearned for.  He had missed her. 

“Hm.  You’re still feverish.  How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” he answered bluntly, although he let the tiniest of smiles tug at the corners of his lips.  “How did I… “  He looked up and felt his blood run cold.  “Jean,” he whispered, looking away. 

“Javert,” ValJean whispered back.  He felt frozen in place.  Terrified to move forward or back.  Afraid to be rejected if he moved forward.  Afraid of rejecting Javert again.  Afraid that he would be struck down as the souls exchanged.

Cosette looked between the two men.  She kissed Javert’s cheek.  “You two need to talk. We need to talk after.  I…”  she wanted to beg his forgiveness.  But, she knew that her petty concerns came second to those feelings and concerns of her father.  Javert was kind enough to put up with her over the years. She had no right to impose her guilt on him.   “I’m so happy you’re awake,” she admitted. 

“Papa, come take my place,” she said, waving her papa over. 

He came over stiffly.  His breath was getting shallow. 

Cosette pulled her handkerchief out of her sleeve.  “Here,” she said handing it to her papa. 

He took it absently. 

She kissed him on the cheek, frowning at the warmth.  “I’ll be in with tea for both of you,” she said, moving from the room as quickly as she could.

“Javert,” ValJean started, uncertain of what to say.  Begging forgiveness wouldn’t do any good.  Asking him if he was staying could be taken wrong.

“Jean… I – I don’t know how I got here, but I assure you I’ll be out of your home as soon as I am well-.”  Before he could even finish, his lips were captured in a passionate kiss. 

When they broke free, they were both gasping for air.

Javert looked positively confused.  “I don’t understand.  I thought you…”

“Banished you?  Never.  It was the fever, I swear.  I want you by my side every day for as long as you want to be.“

“You don’t have to say such things,” Javert said, not believing it.  “I understand that I am not pious enough to be part of this family.  I am dangerous.  You said so yourself.  You warned Cosette to stay away from me.”  His heart hurt.  He wished he could handle this in silent solitude.  But, whether because of the fever, the pain, or the emotional anguish, or the feeling that he needed to be honest about the situation at hand – he couldn’t stop saying his mind.

ValJean sighed heavily.  “I am deeply apologetic for that.  I … I don’t know what came over me.  But, I would trust you with anyone – even Cosette.  You may be dangerous to your enemies, but I believe you pose no danger to us.  Or have I,” he turned quickly and sneezed into Cosette’s handkerchief. 

Javert’s heart leapt with surprise.  “That’s not a symptom of cholera,” he observed. 

“No, I appear to have caught your… cold, on top of it.”

Javert felt chest crushing guilt overwhelm him.  “Then it is I who am apologetic to you.”

ValJean winced at the formality with which they were speaking.  It felt so fake – so forced.  He swallowed thickly.  “May I bare my soul to you?” he asked, humbly.

“I am not your priest,” Javert responded coldly.

ValJean bowed his head in defeat.  It wasn’t worth fighting for.  There was nothing left.  All of their years of support and love had been done in one feverish outburst.  “No, you are not.  I apologize for trying to.”  He was cut off as Cosette entered the room.

“Tea for you,” she said, handing her papa a teacup.

He took the saucer, but it rattled so hard in his hand that she quickly took it back. She kissed him on the forehead.  “Papa! You’re burning up!” she said, surprised at how much his fever had risen in such a little time.  “You must go to bed, straight away,” she said, helping him up and ushering him out of the room.

As she tucked him into his bed, she sat on the edge beside him.  “What is it?” she asked.

“What is what?” he asked, trying to look at her without crying.

“You’re not happy he’s awake?” she asked, confusion etched in her delicate features.

“Of course I am… I just… jus…t…” He turned his head and sneezed freely, “HAR-Etcsssh!”

She frowned.  “I’m sorry you’re still not well.  Don’t you worry.  We’ll both be here when you wake up.”

Tears leaked down his cheeks.  “I hope so, Cosette,” he said, as he let her help ease him into a sleeping position.  “I truly hope so.”


	14. Secret Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette harbors a secret problem of her own as she begs Javert's forgiveness.

Javert was sipping his tea when Cosette came back in the room.  She carried a shift for him to put on and turned around as he did so.

When he indicated that it was safe to turn around, she did so much slower than he had anticipated.  Her movements were slow and deliberate, quite unlike the natural grace and –sometimes – unique clumsiness to which he had become accustomed to over the years.  Something had changed; his puzzle was to figure out what.

His instinctual answer was to turn inward.  He had hurt her and now she was only doing what was correct and proper for a woman of her age and stature.  But, as he looked into her eyes, which shone with love and her smile, which emoted relief, he knew that could not be it.  There was something else wrong. 

A surge of protectiveness coursed through his body.  Who had hurt her?  Did Jean know?  Had the situation been remedied, or did he need to take it into his own hands?  Would he need to take it to the law or could it be handled by intimidation.  She was _his_ angel.  A child who could show him how to smile.  Something that he had thought was quite incapable of even years after he had started getting to know Jean and after he had been introduced to her. 

He remembered the first half smile that he gave to her.  The awkward pulling back of his lips, which bared his teeth.  He remembered as she shook like a leaf in the wind as she curtsied and then hid behind her papa.  How things had changed.  He shivered as he realized that he may have destroyed all of it. 

She frowned slightly.  “Your fever’s up again, hm?” she asked, quietly.  She hoped by speaking quietly, she could mask the ever present raspiness in her voice.  She reached over to the cloth floating in the basin of water and gently pat his face and neck with it. “You gave us quite a scare, you know.”

“I apologize.  I’ll endeavor not to let it happen again,” he responded dryly.

“Lift your shift,” she stated, as though she had not heard him.

“Excuse me?  I don’t believe what is under there is any of your business to see!” he exclaimed, scandalized.  He was aware that she had likely seen him shiftless the night before.  But, there was not cause to be so intimate now that he was awake.

“I want to check the wound,” she offered, humbly.  She would not look at him and felt her cheeks redden with his implication.

“Your father will do a fine job checking that, I’m sure.  He did a fine job stitching me up.”

Her breath caught in her throat.  Javert was aware that she was capable of executing proper stitches.  But, apparently, he did not think she had done so this time.  She couldn’t explain the hurt that spread through her chest and cut off her air.  But, she felt it all the same.  “Yes, of course.  Forgive me…”

The words hung in the air for the briefest of moments before he waved it away with one hand.

“Truly, child, there is nothing to forgive.”

She smiled a bit and looked at him.  His red rimmed eyes and pinked cheeks still held the hue of the fever which would not release its hold.  His chapped nose told her that he was still symptomatic and likely a bit dehydrated as well.  But, the eyes that stared back at her were cold, dense, and completely unpenetratable.  It was the look that she had craved for the past few days and she was very happy to see he was feeling better.

His moustache twitched and she quickly reached for a handkerchief on his bedside table.  Noticing how few there were she endeavored to wash a few during the afternoon. 

“Have on-uh…n… Heh-sssCHUM!” he sneezed heavily.  “Heh… heh…ehSHUMP!”   He blew his nose thickly.  “Pardon me, please,” he said breathily.

“No, it is I who need your pardon, Inspector,” she blurted out, unable to live with her own guilt any longer.

His brow creased with confusion.  “I do not understand.”  He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.  He did not usually give in to such displays of affection.  But, he knew it was the right thing to do, as it was obvious that she so desperately needed it.  Quickly, he withdrew his hand.  “Are you feverish?” he asked, struggling to sit up a little straighter.

“You’re hands are cold,” she replied.  It wasn’t exactly a lie.  But, he wasn’t exactly wrong either.

He nodded.  “Now, what sort of pardon do you need from me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. 

He sat up quickly, ignoring the pain in his side.  He had rarely seen her cry, save the few nights before.   And even then it wasn’t like this.

“I so deeply apologize, Javert,” she squeaked, the tears pouring onto her cheeks.

“For what?” he asked, his voice growing gruff with authority.  “What happened?”

“I got angry and hurt and I didn’t forgive you as quick as I should have.  I … I was wrong to make you feel unwelcome, unwanted, and unforgiven.  You… you are free to have your solitude.  I know you don’t like my nattering and gossiping.  I won’t bother you with it again, I … “  She turned her head to brush away the tears.  She was not typically prone to emotional outbursts, but she felt as though she would explode if she didn’t tell him everything at her first opportunity.

“You were allowed to get angry,” he said. 

“I’ll leave you alone.  Won’t bother you again.”  She had no idea why she was feeling so melodramatic. 

“Don’t,” Javert stated.   He barked a cough and then continued.  “Don’t feel like you can’t come to me.  I….” He closed his eyes.  He would have to be vulnerable in order to sooth the young beauty before him.  “I cherish the trust you put in me,” he admitted, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. 

She laughed bitterly, as though she didn’t believe him.

The discomfort within him grew.

She smiled, love shining through her blue eyes.  “You should rest before you say something you regret,” she replied softly, turning to go.

He reached out for her and gently cupped her arm.  “Don’t dismiss me,” he implored.  “I won’t be mocked by you,” his tone was becoming serious.

She looked at him quickly, blinking away her tears.  “I don’t mean to dismiss you.  I just don’t want to be lied to.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” he asked.

“No.  Never,” she replied.  In fact, typically he was overly critical, although he had softened the way he spoke to her in the past few years.

“I don’t intend to start,” he said with a serious shake of his head.

She moved towards him and hugged him close.  “Javert, I love you.  Your home is here.  Don’t leave us again.”

He smiled despite himself.  The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach started to go away.  At least one person in this house wanted him to stay. He hoped that Jean shared those feelings. 

He turned away, covering his nose and mouth with his handkerchief.  “HetCHUM!  SsssHUMP!”

She pulled away, pressing a kiss to his temple.  She frowned, unable to tell if his fever was down or hers was up.  “I’ll let you rest.  Just… do you forgive me?” she whispered desperately. 

“If you forgive me,” he stated gruffly, the congestion in his voice becoming thick again.

“Of course.”

He nodded, a sneezey look crossing his face.  His breath hitched and he sneezed three more times, each more violent than the last.  He gasped and pressed on his side.

She waited for the fit to stop and then gently removed his hand.  His shift was stained with red. 

She sighed sadly.  “The wound is seeping.”  Realizing that she did not have enough handkerchiefs to care for the wound, she poured a bit of the tincture of turpentine onto her fingers.  “May I?” she asked, tugging at his shift a bit.

“Absolutely not!” he insisted, scowling at her. 

She rubbed her fingers together, feeling the oils make them slick.  “Of course.  I’ll get papa,” she whispered.

She exited the room as quickly as possible, closing the door swiftly behind her.  “Het-chew!” she sneezed, quietly.  “Heh-hetchew!”  She squeezed her eyes closed.  The crying did nothing to fix her congestion.  She sniffed lightly.  “Hetchew!”  She wished she still had her handkerchief. 

Quickly, she went into her room and got another handkerchief.  She knew she had caught Javert’s illness, but the fact of the matter was that she didn’t have the time to be sick.  Not when the family was still in such disarray.

She blew her nose quickly and steadied her breath before getting her papa to clean Javerts’ wound.


	15. Secrets Grow in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette witholds an important secret from her papa.

ValJean stood posed, frozen in place.  He had brought his teacup partway to his mouth, holding it near his chest when the tickle started.  His nostrils flared with the impending sneeze and he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep his symptoms at bay. 

His thoughts drifted to Cosette.  He was anxious about how she was handling the pressure of his ailments and Javert’s illness and injury.  On one side,  he was proud of her for holding up as well as she was.  On the other side, he noticed that she was starting to look tired.  He wondered if she was eating or sleeping.  He wondered how oblivious he was becoming between his ailment and his concern for Javert.  He hoped that Cosette knew that she could come to him if something was wrong – no matter how ill or distracted he may become.

His thoughts were shattered by a thunderous sneeze, which folded him in half.  His teacup crashed to the floor.  He kept his hand closely cupped to his nose and mouth as several smaller, more restrained sneezed worked their way out.  He blinked hard to clear his vision of the grey spots that were working their way before his eyes.  Suddenly, he felt delicate hands on either side of his torso.  “No, Cos-…” His objection was cut by another sneeze that made him stumble.  He felt, rather than heard, her shuffle step in order to maintain her hold on him. 

“Papa, you must rest,” she admonished.  She sighed sadly, knowing that Javert needed her papa’s care and that she needed anyone’s. 

Hearing her sigh, he drew himself to his full height.  “What is it?” he asked, his gruff voice, exhaustion lining not only his voice but the corners of his eyes as well.

Cosette looked at him, her eyes fluttering with an impending sneeze.  “Javert … needs your help… his wound…”  she struggled to get the words out without sneezing.

He sighed, kneeling down to pick up the pieces of the broken teacup. “Of course.  Now that he’s conscious, it’s not appropriate for you to see him without his shirt.” 

“Papa, don’t… Jav… Javert,” she said, kneeling down beside him.  She picked up the pieces and gathered the ones from his hands.  “Go,” she urged.

He smiled warmly and gazed at her soft features.  He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek.  “You’re so good to us.  When we’re better, I’ll take you to a restaurant in Paris,” he promised. 

“Pap…ah… go,” she said with her sweetest smile.  She bent her head away from him as he got up and waited until she heard his steps on the stairs.  She clapped both hands over her mouth.  “Heh-Shhhew!  Sheww! Shhhh-huh… uh… sshhew!”  She coughed lightly and finished cleaning the teacup and tea off the floor.  Then she set to finding all of the used handkerchiefs and went outside to launder them.

 


	16. Guilt and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Javert start reconciling, but Cosette can't keep her secret forever.

 ValJean entered Javert’s room quietly.  He felt the corners of his lips curl in a satisfied smile when he saw Javert sitting up, awake, and looking thoroughly put out with the entire situation.

“I see no reason for you to be pleased with the situation,” he snapped.  “I haven’t taken a day off in my life and here I am, sitting like a patsy, completely unable to do my job because your convict hands can’t do proper stitches.”  A smile quirked the edges of his mouth and his eyes held no malice.  He was teasing.

“I see you’re feeling better,” ValJean said, his low baritone carrying a hint of joviality.  He sat down on the bed beside Javert, ignoring the wince that it caused the man.  Secretly, he was relieved that the man was able to tease him.  While he was certain that the damage had not been undone, he was no longer concerned that it could not be mended.

Javert cupped his hand tightly over his nose and mouth.  “Hetchum!  Heh-Shump!” He winced and gasped.

ValJean watched with a concerned look in his eyes, but said nothing.  He knew that Javert would rather his symptoms not be doted on.  He also knew that Cosette couldn’t help but dote.  So, he would leave that to her.

He lifted Javerts’ shift and frowned as he looked at the wound.  “I’m no doctor,” he said, reaching for the turpentine.  “I’ll leave the stitching to Cosette, but she told me turpentine will help cauterize the wound,” he said, moistening his fingers with the slick oil.  He rubbed it into the wound, his calloused hands running roughly over the tender skin. 

Javert pulled away with a grunt.  “What does she know of medicine?” he asked.  “Stitches, certainly, but medicine?”

ValJean rolled his eyes.  “Well, I suppose she – or her friends just know more than us,” he responded, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“School boys,” Javert said, shaking his head in disgust.

ValJean couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.  “Indeed,” he agreed.   He enjoyed the ease with which they were talking.  He hadn’t expected Javert to let him back into his defenses so easily.  But, he knew that the damage was far from mended.

“So, now that you’re home,” he started, wondering how fine of a line he was toeing, “would you like to come back to the bedroom.”

Javert blanched, the color draining from his face so fast that ValJean thought he was going to be ill.  “I… I don’t know, Jean.  I…” he swallowed.  He had Cosette’s forgiveness, which was why he had left initially.  He knew that calling Jean by his Toulon numbers was a gamble, one that had not ended well for him.  “Will you have me?” he asked, knowing that whether the situation had to do with Cosette or Jean, he had done it to himself.  He had caused Cosette to doubt herself – it was obvious in her apology.  He should have come up with another way to awaken Jean.  He knew it might not have ended well.  Shielded brown eyes slid to the side as he realized how melodramatic he had been.  He hoped that he could blame it on the fever.   He was dizzy with confusion.  Normally, he would be barking orders, demanding to be sent back to the boarding house.  But, the fact of the matter was he didn’t want to leave.  One way or the other, he wanted to stay.  He felt his breath leave him at the thought of changing who he was at the core. He figured it was what would be needed, though.  He didn’t know how to change.  He didn’t know what to change to.

“Of course,” ValJean stated, surprised.  “How could you ask such a thing?

Javert hurt.  His heart, his head, his stomach.  Everything.  He couldn’t breathe.  His heart was pounding so hard that he was certain Jean could hear it. 

“Javert…” His voice was low, comforting, concerned.  “What is it?  Tell me, please.”

He sighed roughly.  “I’m not good enough, Jean!” he snapped.  “I’m not good enough for this family!” he yelled.

Suddenly, there was a crash in the hallway, as the sound of a metal platter and glass filled the hallway.

The men stopped, each holding their breath listening for Cosette’s assurance that everything was okay. 

“Cosette?” Jean called, nervously.  Something was wrong, he could feel it in his heart.  While she had dropped a platter of tea or two in her time, she always followed it with some sort of assurance.  Her silence was deafening. 

Although only mere seconds had slide by, both men jumped as though it had been an eternity.  They clamored off of the bed and threw open the door.

“Dear Jehovah,” ValJean breathed, stunned, as Javert pushed past him. 

Cosette lay, stomach down, on the floor, surrounded by spilled tea and shattered glass.  Her face was deeply flushed and shards of glass had cut her hands and bits of her face, causing blood to matte her long blonde hair.  Javert knelt next to her, placing his hand on her forehead.  Even with his elevated body temperature, he could feel hers. 

“Jean, she’s burning up,” he said, carefully starting to roll her towards him.  He went to pick her up, but his side tore deeper and he yelped in pain.

Snapping out of his stupor, ValJean raced to his side.  “I have her.  Give her to me… give her to me,” ValJean insisted, gently taking his daughter in his arms.  He held her close and pushed her hair out of her face.  Accepting Javert’s offer of help, he lifted her up and quickly brought her to her room, placing her softly on her bed. 

He sighed deeply, his heart breaking as he looked at her too pale complexion and fever stained cheeks and forehead.  He brushed her hair off her forehead and felt deeply saddened that he couldn’t feel her fever as well as Javert could.  “How could I have missed this?” he muttered.  “Cosette?  Cosette?” he called her name increasingly loudly. 

She didn’t move.

“Cosette!?” he called, panic evident in his voice. 

Javert placed his hand on ValJean’s shoulder.  “Jean, she’s alive.  Look at the flush in her cheeks and the way the base of her neck pulses… she’s ill.  She needs our help.”  He looked at Jean.  The man was completely absorbed in Cosette’s distress.   A quick tickle overcame him.  “Heh-eh-SHUMP!” he sneezed, suddenly, turning away as he did so.   “I’m going to find some handkerchiefs,” he said, stuffily. 

After scouring the house, looking for what he started to believe was Cosette’s secret stash of healing supplies, he caught a glimpse of them hanging from the clothesline.  Cold dread filled him as he realized that she had been taking care of him, her papa, the house, and herself – all the while begging his forgiveness.  How could he have let her down so completely?

He quickly plucked the handkerchiefs off the line and took them into the house.

“’scuse me, Sir,” a little voice called from behind the wall.

Javert turned and a young boy, about the age of ten, took a few stumbling steps back.  “Inspector, I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice stuttering with fear.

Javert composed himself and walked up to the boy.  “What is it, boy?” he asked, somewhat disgraced that he didn’t know the child’s name.

“It’s Pietre, sir,” the boy said, taking off his hat for a short bow.  “The Lady Cosette sent me to town to give you this letter.  I couldn’t find you in town, but she instructed me to give it to no one but you or her.  Seeing as I hadn’t seen either, I’ve held onto it.  I haven’t read it, though, sir.  Not a word.  Seeing as I’ve found you here it is,” he said, handing over a rumbled, but sealed envelope.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a Napoleon for you,” Javert responded, feeling a tickle creep up in his throat.  While he believed that people should not be paid extra for doing their jobs, he was not one to skimp on paying a boy who had been used as post. 

“Pre-paid and sealed with a kiss, sir,” the boy said with a smile.

Quirking an eyebrow at the boy he took the letter with a nod.  “Thank you,” he stated as confidently as he could muster.  _Cosette must have written it after I left_ , he mused, turning his back on the boy and walking back into the house. 

He barely made it back inside before bracing himself on the counter and coughing huskily.  As soon as he caught his breath, he made his way back upstairs, handkerchiefs in hand, the envelope forgotten on the counter.

ValJean was holding her hand, looking at her as though she had already died.

“Certainly, this is not the first time she’s been ill,” Javert stated, coming in with a basin of water and about half of the handkerchiefs. 

“No,” ValJean responded absently.  “Just…” he looked imploringly at Javert.  “How did I miss this?  How could she not come to me?”  He thought about how she had held him as he cried, as he was sick and at times violently ill.  He thought of how she took care of Javert, stitched him up and helped him get through the worst of his symptoms.  He wondered how  long she had been feeling ill and how long she would have kept it from them if she had not passed out… while bringing her tea.

He gasped out a strangled sob. 

Javert looked at ValJean, realizing that he was in better physical health – even with the pulling stitches.  Suddenly, the weight of being responsible for the house hit him.  He submerged a handkerchief in the basin and placed it on Cosette’s head.  He pulled over a chair and sat in it, hoping that his obliviousness to her plight wouldn’t cost her more than he was willing to pay.  _Oh God, I’m sorry_ , he thought guiltily as he watched his angel sleep. 


	17. Wilted Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While feverish, Cosette unleashes secrets from her childhood that deeply trouble ValJean and Javert. What happened to their angel?

Javert woke up with a snort and a start, his head rising from his chest quickly.  His eyes opened quickly and scanned the room, making certain that everything was in its place and that ValJean had not snuck back into the room.  The first time that he woke up, ValJean was sleeping next to Cosette, cradling her in his arms.  With a groan, he had woken his sleeping companion and ushered him back into their bedroom.  It had been no easy feat getting ValJean to leave his beloved daughter.  Even while he was well, ValJean had an extreme soft spot where she was concerned.  But, with his fever high and relentless and her inability to regain consciousness, the man had been quite difficult to reason with.

_“I know you want to stay by her, but she is too mature for you to stay in the bed with her,” Javert reasoned, as he tucked a feverish and somewhat delirious ValJean into bed.  He grunted as the man struggled against him, his own head swimming with fever and the exhaustion making it difficult for him to breathe._

_ValJean coughed roughly into a fist.  “But, she needs me.  I’m her papa… I must protect… protect… pro…tect – HarEttccssshhh!”  He turned away just in time to avoid sneezing in Javert’s face.  A few more coughs made their way out as he rubbed his tender nose.  “Heh… eh… HAH…Ettcchhhssshh!” he sneezed again, this time into a cupped hand._

_“Besides,” Javert continued, his voice cold as he set to the task of covering ValJean with the woolen blanket, “imagine if she caught this from you.  It’s possible that she only has a cold because of running herself ragged taking care of us.”  As if on cue, he turned to the side.  “Hecchump!  Shhump!”  He coughed congestedly and rubbed his aching side.  His head pounded as though his heart was going to beat out of his temples._

_ValJean regarded him sleepily.  “Javert, you need to rest.  You… you have to get back to… work.”  He yawned widely and laid himself down on the bed.  “You are welcomed to -.”  He gave up on his sentence when Javert turned down the light and left the room._

_“I have to get back to work,” Javert mumbled to himself, going back into Cosette's room.  “Of course I have to get back to work.”  He knew that any time that he was away from duty was time that an enterprising young man was using to take his spot.  He hoped that he had earned enough respect and fear over the years to at least grant him time to recuperate.  But, he doubted it._

His eyes flickered to the doorway, the window, the bed.  The candles were burning low, casting eerie shadows on the young woman’s face, causing her to look far more ashen than she likely did.  He sighed lightly as he dipped a handkerchief into the basin and placed it on her forehead.  Her fever had gone down slightly, and it pleased him greatly.  If this was any judge of the days to come, she would be better in no time.  Ah, the fortitude of the young.

He settled himself uncomfortably in the chair.  His thoughts drifted to the cool sheets of the guest room and to ValJeans warm embrace.  He would have rather been sleeping comfortably.  But, he could not leave the young lady before him.  She had tended so well to he and her father that to leave in her current state seemed horribly unjust.  “Hurrchsshht!” he sneezed wetly, groaning as his head continued to pound in protest.  Despite his best efforts, his eyes started to drift closed again. 

“Yes, Madame,” Cosette whispered.  She did not stir except to nod a tiny bit. 

Javert lifted his head and watched Cosette as she coped with unknown nightmares.  He assumed the ‘Madame’ that she referred to was Madame Thenardier.  The very thought her made him sneer.  She was a disgusting loathsome woman who deserved every bit of the life her scum of a husband gave her. 

Suddenly, he realized that Cosette’s eyes were opened.  He smiled, reaching towards her.

“I’m sorry, Inspector,” she whispered, her tone that of a frightened child.  She started to try to get up, but grasped her head with a wince.

“No, no, Cosette,” he soothed.  “You must rest.”

“Where is Madame?” she asked, looking down at the bed.  Her eyes flickered up at him nervously.  “Does she know you’re here?”

Uncertain of how to answer, Javert paused.  The mistreatment of Cosette was not unknown to him.  He had often checked up on the child, while she was in their care.  He had been appalled and frightened when ValJean took her away.  Now, he had come to love and adore her. 

He made eye contact with her, trying to project an aire of confidence. 

“Oh I see,” she said, forcing a smile.  “Madame has taught me what you’d like.  But, what would be in such an action for me?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.  Her head pounded in protest and she felt as though she was missing a giant piece of a puzzle.

Confused, Javert sat on the edge of her bed, and reached out for her face. 

In an instant, Cosette released an ear splitting scream that caused him to cover both ears with his hands.  The pain rang inside his head, causing him to cough and jump away from the young woman.

Within seconds ValJean was in the room, casting a worried and fiercely protective glance at Javert.  “What happened,” he asked, kneeling on the bed. 

Scared, unrecognizing eyes looked through him and she curled herself into the fetal position.  “Who are you?” she asked, fearful eyes looking between him and Javert.  “What do you want?”

She looked at Javert and started shaking her head.  “I didn’t do anything, Inspector, I swear it!” she yelled. 

Looking at ValJean she squinted.  “Oh… I understand now… he’s finally done it, eh?”  She took a deep breath and let it go with a shudder.  She pushed herself up onto her knees and went to crawl towards ValJean, her eyes jumping from the bed to ValJean to Javert. 

“And you…” she said, looking at Javert, “you’re here to look on?  To… arrest me when I do what I am told?  Or… oh… Madame told me that officers were often the most receptive… I thought she meant Naval.”

The men watched in horror as she looked at Javert seductively.  “I don’t know what you paid him, but I will deny that this has ever happened. Your reputation is safe with me… but don’t trust… hi-hi- ih… hetsshew!” She sneezed suddenly, catching it in the palm of her hand.  “Oh…,” she said, grabbing her head. 

She looked at the two men in the room, who had been watching in horror.  “Papa?  Javert?  Are you all right?” she whispered.  It hurt to speak and her head pounded horribly. 

She reached out a hand for ValJean.  “You shouldn’t be out of bed.  What is it?” she asked, with the concern that he had long since become familiar with.  She pressed her hand against his face, which he shied away from. 

“No, Cosette,” he breathed, bile rising up in his throat – but this time not from cholera. 

She pulled away, quickly stifling a sneeze into her wrist.  “Oh papa, I’m so sorry.  I have failed in my duties to you as a daughter.  Please, let me…” she started to try to rise out of bed.

“Cosette,” Javert’s stern voice broke through her thoughts.  “You are not in trouble.  It’s only natural that you needed rest.  I’m sure it is… nothing… mere…me-hee… Hetchump!  Shh-heh-sshump!”  He coughed lightly and ignored both her concerned look and the horror that he had felt when she started treating him like a trick.  He let out his breath in a puff of annoyance. “You just need rest.  Jean was just getting back to bed.  I’ll watch over you.”  Mimicking her motions over the years, he gently tucked her back into bed and handed over a glass of water. 

She watched him move, her overly observant eyes calculating his every motion.  “Your wound is causing you pain.”  She took a long sip of the water and visably relaxed into her pillows.  “Please, inspector, let me see.”

He glared a bit when she called him ‘Inspector’.  It was not a title frequently used at home, other than in jest.  He wondered if she was completely out of her night terror and he wondered about the truth behind the night terror.

“I am fine,” he said, giving her a curt nod.  “I will see your father to sleep and then do the same for you.”

She took another long drink from her glass and looked at him through glassy eyes.  “Of course,” she answered, politely.  “As is your wish, shall it be done.”

Javert had started to help Jean off the bed, allowing the older, taller man to lean on him slightly.  They both paused at her odd comment and gave each other uneasy glances.  That was not a phrase either of them had ever used.  Their faces darkened as they thought of what secrets she harbored from her years with the Thenardiers.

 


	18. Midnight Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and ValJean deal with the shock of Cosette's secret.
> 
> Warning: Mention of vomiting.

Jean stifled several wet coughs as Javert helped him back into bed.  This time, however, the Inspector sat next to him as anxious hands smoothed the covers over Jean. 

“Did you know of this?” Javert asked darkly, his strong tenor becoming a threatening baritone.

He didn’t need to explain any further.  “No, of course not,” Jean responded, a tremor appearing in his voice.  He recalled getting to know Cosette after taking her from the Thenardier’s.  Aside from being excited about getting new clothes and concerned that she wasn’t carrying her weight enough for her to keep her.  Over the years, she stopped trying too hard or crying when she thought she wasn’t doing enough.  Over the years, they had learned to trust and love each other.  She had never indicated that the Thenardier’s were prepping her to be sold.  It made him sick to even think that someone would request a child of that age.  And Javert…

He looked at his friend and companion.  “She didn’t know what she was saying,” he explained for her.

Javert snapped out of a daze and looked at Jean, his eyes flaming with anger.  “She was being bred for the streets… even with Fantine killing herself to give her child a better life.  She was being trained for… for m-…meh…”  He coughed wetly and fled the room quickly.  Jean could hear him getting sick in the wash room. 

After a few minutes, the retching finally ceased and a few minutes after that Javert reemerged in the bedroom.  His face glistened with sweat and his eyes seemed sunken in.  He swallowed thickly and sat back down on the bed, nervous hands smoothing over the blankets. 

“You know she won’t remember,” Jean soothed.

“I hope she doesn’t remember,” he breathed.  He recalled how terrified she had been of him when he first met her.  He had thought that it was because she knew of his reputation.  He had frequented the inn enough due to complaints and had worked hard to try to catch them in the act.  Their young blonde ward had always been polite, and he had thought she was charming.  He mentally berated himself.  Of course the Thenardier’s would have seen that he regarded her more gently than anyone else who frequented that slum.  They were prepping her to ruin his career.  They were going to use his weakness against him – and her. 

A strangled laugh escaped his lips as he turned away from Jean.  He felt a heavy hand on his back.  “I don’t deserve her love… her… her support.” 

Jean heard a strangled gasp come out of his companion and felt his back shake beneath his hand.  With a heavy heart he realized that Javert was crying.

“Javert look at me,” he commanded.

Javert did not comply.

Jean went to sit up in bed, which got Javert’s attention.  “No,” he breathed, pushing down on Jean’s shoulder.  “You rest.”  _Talk about not pious enough for this family,_ Javert thought.  _Even before joining it, I was hurting Cosette._  

Jean brushed a heavy hand against Javert’s face.  “What are you thinking?  I can see it in your eyes… you’re plotting something.”

“Even before… this… us… I was hurting her.  My weakness was honed in on.  I was foolish.”  Another sob escaped him and he brushed away the tears briskly.

“But those things… they didn’t happen Javert.  Your concern was so strong that you followed me for years… watching, not trying to lock me up… just watching.

Javert swallowed thickly and bobbed his head in a nod.  “You _are_ pious enough for us.  You are _good_ enough.  We are there for you – she is there for you – because we love you.”

Javert grasped Jean’s hand tightly.  He felt like he was home where he belonged. 

“Javert?” Jean asked quietly after a moment. 

“Hm?” Javert’s breathing had evened out and he let go of Jean’s hand.  Softly, he grazed Jean’s cheek with the back of his hand. 

“You’re forgiven… for everything… for your past… for what you think you did to Cosette… I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Javert stated.  While it felt good to get Jean’s forgiveness, he knew that for this he would need Cosette’s.  But, there was no guarantee that Cosette would remember her fever dream.  And, he didn’t want to make the child relive something if he didn’t have to.

“Cosette forgives you, too,” Jean stated confidently.

“Heh,” Javert laughed sharply.  He took a shuddering breath.  “I don’t know how she could.”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything wrong, Javert.  The Thenardier’s are scum.  We knew that then; we know that now.  How they are still alive and operating is beyond us.  But, Cosette is free of them, safe with us.  And, she loves you.”

Javert squeezed his eyes shut.  Tears threatened to fall, yet again.  Tired of crying, he merely nodded in the soft light of the gas lamp.  “I need to go look in on her,” he whispered.  “I owe her at least that.”

Jean smiled, hopeful that Javert would be able to get past this new shock.  But, somehow, even though the Inspector’s gait was still uneasy and his breath was cut by the occasional cough or sneeze, Javert looked lighter.  Something had happened in that moment of extreme shock.  Somehow, even through the horror of the realization, they had started to come back together.  


	19. Petals in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert converses with Cosette for the first time since her fever dream. He also conquers a fear and harbors a new secret of his own.

The sunlight shone in through Cosette’s window, casting shadows on the young beauty’s face.  Her eyes squeezed tightly, her eyebrows furrowing together as they did so.  She slowly opened her eyes and winced as the sunlight assaulted her senses.  Her eyes and throat felt like they had been assaulted by sandpaper.  She didn’t remember getting to bed.  The last she knew, she had been making tea for her papa and Javert. 

“Oh dear,” she breathed.  She craned her neck to the side, groaning as she did so.  She felt so stiff.  Her looked softened as soon as she saw Javert asleep in a chair by her bed.  The man was wearing a shift and a pair of trousers.  His chin had dropped to his chest and his hands were folded across his stomach.  Soft snores escaped every few breaths.  The man somehow looked comfortable in that position and much to Cosette’s delight, he was sleeping soundly – something that alluded him even on the best of nights.

She pushed herself into a sitting position, grunted slightly as her head pounded in protest.  She knew this headache well… she hadn’t eaten enough in the past few days and she had passed out because of it.  Guilt wrapped itself around her heart as she realized that she had probably scared the two men half out of their wits. 

“Uh,” she groaned miserably.  Her muscles ached, her head hurt, and her throat felt as though it was on fire.  She hadn’t let herself become this dehydrated in years.  She loathed herself for a moment.  Javert needed to be cared for, and she hoped her papa already was. 

“Are you all right?” Javert’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Javert,” she croaked, smiling sweetly at him.  “Could I have some water please?” she asked as politely as she could muster. 

He paused, looking at her expectantly.  He did not move.

She furrowed her brow as she watched him pause.  “Are you all right?” she asked, rolling towards him.

He flinched away as though she had threatened him.  “I’m sorry.  I’m not quite awake yet,” he said, getting up stiffly. 

Her features softened.  “No, it is I who am sorry,” she said, clearing her throat.  “I shouldn’t have requested…”

“No!” Javert snapped.  “No, Cosette.  It is fine,” he said, stretching with a groan.  He winced as his side pulled.  He poured her water  
and handed her the glass before settling himself back into the seat.

Cosette drank greedily.  She wanted more, but she couldn’t bear to ask him to get up again.  She observed his fever stained cheek and his still red nose.  The man was obviously still miserable, and she wondered how his wound was healing. 

“More?” he asked, getting up more easily this time.  He poured her another glass of water. 

“Yes, thank you.”  She drank her fill and set the glass aside.  “I’m sorry for worrying you.  Truly, I am fine… I just… jus…t… Sshew!”  After a small sniff she continued.  “I just seem to have caught cold.”

He nodded.  Her fever the night before betrayed her theory of a cold.  But, he wasn’t about to correct her.  If she did not remember the night before, he was loathe to bring it up to her.  He knew all about repressed memories and if this was a secret that he and Jean needed to keep to maintain her happiness, he would do so without complaint. 

She caught onto his disbelief.  “I’m sorry for frightening the two of you.  Truly… I just didn’t eat enough.”

He continued to look at her disapprovingly.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he used the back of his hand to feel for a fever.  Her fever had come down significantly.  The fortitude of the young was truly a wonderous thing.  He rolled his eyes as she then returned the gesture. 

“You’re still feverish,” she pointed out, gently.  She reached for half empty glass of water.  “Have you drank anything since yesterday?” she asked, putting the glass in his hand.

He glared at her, unamused at her how she was turning the care back on him.  “No, I have not.  But,” he yawned widely, covering his mouth with his wrist, “I did sleep rather well.”

“I noticed,” she said with a smile.  She sighed lightly.  She wanted nothing more than to lay back down and rest just one more day.  But, she knew it was not her place.  “Come,” she said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.  “Let’s get you back to bed.  I’ll check on that wound and maybe.”

“No, Cosette,” Javert said, getting up.

Her heart stopped.  What did he mean no?

She grabbed his hand.  “Why?” she asked in a panic.  “Javert, what is it?  Is it papa?”  Tears sprang to her eyes.  “Why don’t you trust me anymore, Javert?  What did I do wrong?” she asked, tears rolling down her face.

He stopped, looking back at her in shock.  “No,” he said, gently this time.  He sat back on the bed and pushed her sweat soaked hair away from her face.  “You did nothing wrong,” he said, getting choked up. 

“I did… I see it in your eyes,” she said, matter-of-factly.  “Did I say something in my sleep?  Did I have a fever dream?” she nearly begged him for the answer. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he repeated, grasping her hand.  “Would you like anything?” he said, deflecting the focus back to her.

She glared at him, knowing exactly what he had just done.  “Actually, could you get me a bit of bread… and tea with honey?”  As soon as the request was spoken, she regretted it. “I apologize, Javert.  I shouldn’t…”

“Rest yourself,” he responded, giving her hand a squeeze.  “You are allowed to ask for food… you should have been eating to begin with.”

“There was no time for such things… you both needed care.”

He sighed as he sat back on the bed.  “Cosette… you should have told us you needed a reprieve.  Or at least that you needed to eat.”

She looked down in shame.  “I apologize.  I tried to eat and sleep when you two were asleep.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “But, we never were asleep at the same time, were we?” 

“No,” she whispered.  “And, now, I’m shirking my…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he soothed, cutting her off.  “It’s the fever.  It’s low, but you need another day to rest.”  He bent over and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.  She definitely felt cooler than she had the night before.  Looking at her seriously he added, “No more apologies.” 

He was back in a few minutes with bread, cheese, and salted meat , as well as tea with honey for the both of them.  Truthfully, he was more exhausted than hungry, but he knew she would not rest without seeing him fed as well. 

As the tea warmed him, he could tell that he was not the only one getting sleepy.  Cosette, to her credit, tried to keep up her side of the conversation, asking about his health and that of her papas.  But, she was tired, and after a few slices of bread and a cup of tea she started to drift off.

Javert cleared away the food, leaving it to the side, should she wake and wish for more.  “Rest now, Cosette.  Call us if you need anything at all.  Please don’t deny yourself on our behalf.”

She nodded sleepily.  “Javert… I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“You did nothing wrong,” he repeated, leaning over and kissing her forehead again.  Although not typically an affectionate person, he felt that she needed the affection that she would typically get from Jean.  Since he was not in a position to give it, Javert would step up.  He was lucky that she forgave him for his anger the week before.  The least he could do was make certain that she got the love and support that she had become accustomed to over the years.  He only hoped that his unusual behavior towards her didn’t trigger any other horrible memories.  If those that had come out the night before were repressed, he would rather they’d remain so.

Javert stumbled back into the hallway.  He knew that he should head back into the sick room.  But, he craved Jean’s touch especially after Cosette’s fever dream and the affection that he showed her after.  Although he would never admit it, he needed to know that he was safe.

He lifted his arm and looked at his shift.  Just as he feared, his wound had begun bleeding anew.  He knew that Cosette was not up to her usual standards; she would never have let him tuck her into bed if she had noticed.  And her lack of observation was quite out of character for her. 

He took off his trousers and lay down on his side of the bed.  His heart soared as he did so, and he felt himself physically relax.  “Hersshump!” he sneezed wetly, turning away from his sleeping companion. 

Jean startled awake.  “Javert?” he asked, sleepily, reaching over to Javert’s side of the bed.

Javert froze.  Perhaps he had misjudged his welcome.  “Pardon me,” he whispered.  “Cosette has eaten and drank some tea.  Do you… do you mind if I sleep here?  Just for a nap.  I-If it’s a problem…”  He smiled as Jean moved closer to him and opened his arm to him.  Javert lay his head on Jean’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around the bigger man’s torso.  He frowned to know that even after so much time, Jean’s body temperature was still so high. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

“Not right now please,” Jean commanded.  “Just… just rest,” he responded, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

Anxiety filled Javert.  He was concerned about his position and knew that he would have to go into work soon to ensure that his position was not being usurped by a younger man.  He knew that he could not go until either Cosette or Jean was well enough to care for the other and that he would need to hide his wound in order to go at all.  His heart started thudding in his chest and his headache started to return.

He tried to break free from Jean’s embrace, but the other man was not about to let go.  “Jean… Je… Jean,” he begged breathily.  “Hessh…Shesshump!” he sneezed freely, partially spraying his companions chest in the process.   He groaned miserably.  “Oh… I apologize,” he said, trying to get out of Jean’s grasp. 

“Shh,” Jean said, holding on tightly.  “It happens… and I still love you,” Jean said sleepily, as though that would fix everything. 

Inexplicably, Javert found that it was easier for him to fall asleep than it had been in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is FAR from over. And don't worry, their suffering will lessen... well Cosettes and Javert's at least... for a bit.


	20. Wilting Flower

ValJean placed his hand on a sleeping Cosette’s forehead.  He smiled as he realized that she was cool to the touch.  Javert was correct.  Truly, the fortitude of the young was a wondrous thing.   He sniffled, wishing he was getting the same sort of rest that Cosette was.  Instead, he had been woken by the delivery of the post.  A letter had come for Cosette, an odd thing unto itself.  He didn’t recognize the penmanship and normally he would open such a letter.  But, after seeing how Cosette had handled their current situation, he couldn’t bring himself to treat her like a child any longer.

He turned and sneezed wetly, the force of the sneeze causing him to stumble forward. 

Cosette moaned lightly, her eyes fluttering open.  “Papa?” she asked, turning onto her side.

ValJean was unable to answer as he panted against another sneeze.  He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Javert to go into work feeling this poorly.  “Har-ESSSH!” he sneezed violently, leaning against the  wall as another sneezed exploded out of him.

Cosette was by his side in an instant.  “What is it, papa?  Why are you in here?”

He handed her the letter.  “You received a post,” he said, his voice stuffy and exhausted.

She took the envelope from him and opened it quickly.  “Oh that’s sweet.  It’s Raoul's formal invitation to take me to the officer’s ball.  It’s this Saturday.”  She looked up, stricken.  “Papa, that’s four days away.  I can’t leave you and Javert.  But, I did promise him…”  Her voice drifted off as she thought about her options.

“You can,” he said, regaining his balance after a stuffy blow of his nose.  “You made a promise and you’ll keep it.  Besides, Javert needs to put in a showing at work.  Why don’t you two travel into Paris tomorrow.  You’ll shop, he’ll terrify his adversaries… and then I know the most important person in my life is safe.”  He smiled softly while looking toward her bedroom door.

In that instant Cosette knew what she had assumed for a while.  Now that she was an adult, her spot in her papa’s heart had been replaced.  Her eyes fell on his graying hair.  He was aging and happy with Javert.   It was time that the two of them became each other’s top priority.  Her place in the house was compromised.   “You know I’ll take good care of him,” she said, taking his arm to lead him back to his bedroom.  “Come, I have to jot off a note back to him.”

It wasn’t far from her bedroom to his, but as the left her room and entered the hallway, he lost his footing and crumbled to the floor.

She gasped and came to her knees beside him.  “Papa!”  She placed a hand on his shoulder, noticing the fever that caused him to sweat through his shift.

“You really are stupid, you know that?” he spat at her, as he leaned himself against the wall.

She gasped, taken aback.  He had never spoken to her in such a way.  “Papa?”

“To think you could support me as though you were Javert.  You’re a woman… not a girl.  No courtships in sight.” He coughed harshly. 

She thought about Marius, the young man who  had caught her eye during the last few tea parties.  He had asked for permission to court her, but she had said no.  She thought her papa needed her too much.  It seemed that she was incorrect.  She smiled slightly, “I’ll go get Javert,” she whispered.

When she entered the room, Javert was sleeping on top of the covers.  His shift barely covered him, but he was decent.  She noticed the scars on his rather muscular legs.  She also noticed that his wound was seeping.  “Oh dear,” she muttered. 

Her heart sunk as she heard the click of the hammer of a pistol.  Quick as a blink she was staring at the barrel of Javert’s pistol and a feverish, angry Javert was holding it.  His hand shook as he pointed the pistol at her. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.  His voice was a harsh whisper.  It was apparent that he didn’t know who she was.

“Javert…” she started, reaching towards the pistol.

“I’ll kill you where you stand,” he rasped. 

She stopped and worked to stay her breathing.  She closed her eyes and thought the Lords Prayer, uncertain of what else to do but command her destiny into God’s Hands.

“Javert, I just want to clean your wound,” she said.

As she said ‘wound’, he sneezed harshly and his gun went off with a BANG!

Cosette screamed, but felt no pain. When she opened her eyes, she saw Javert had dropped the gun and was looking at her in shock.  “What are you doing here?” he asked, fear cloying at his voice.

“Papa needs,” she started, but she couldn’t finish before ValJean stumbled into the room. 

He took in the smoking gun on the bed.  Javert was still in his shift and Cosette looked absolutely stricken.  There was a bullet splatter on the wall behind the bed.  “What happened here?” he asked, uncertain of where to look first.

Javert focused on the gun on the bed.  If Cosette was in front of him… the gun dropped from his hands when it went off as he turned himself to cover his sneeze… He’d almost shot Cosette… He felt as though ice had filled his veins.  He’d almost killed…

“I’m sorry, papa, it was my fault,” Cosette said quickly.  “I, um… I didn’t notice – realize that he slept with a pistol.  It must have gone off when I sat on the bed.”  She bit her lip and looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wispy.  If Javert was the person her papa wanted most in his life, she would do whatever it took to make certain that it happened.  “I’m sorry Javert,” she whispered, unable to look at either man. 

She pushed past her father and escaped down the stairs and into the sitting room.  Moments later, her papa came in after her.  “Are you trying to kill him?” he barked at her.

“No, of course not,” she said, still unable to meet his gaze.  She knew that if she had actually been at fault, she would deserve his wrath, so she knew that she had to endure it.

“You really are the most clumsy, stupid child that I ever could have gotten saddled with!” he yelled.  “Normal fathers would have been rid of their daughters by now.  Mine?  Mine sticks around to try to kill my companion!”  He rushed at her, not unlike Javert had done when all this started.

She backed up.  “I’m sorry, papa!”

“I don’t care how, but I want you -!”

“That’s _enough_ , Jean!” Javert called from the door.  

Clad in his shift and a pair of trousers, it dawned on Cosette that he might tell her papa about her lie.  “I am the first person to punish someone for wrong doings.  But, my pistol must have slipped onto the bed.  She didn’t know it was there when she sat down.   Now go to bed.  _I_ will handle her.”

ValJean nodded, coughly lightly as he did so.  “It is your right to punish your wrong-doer.  Do with her what you will.”  With another glare in Cosette’s direction, he left the room and went back upstairs.

As soon as ValJean reached the top of the stairs, Javert closed the distance between he and Cosette.  “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

Big, blue, tear filled eyes looked up at him.  “Because he doesn’t want me,“ she said, her voice crackling with barely hidden emotion.  “He wants you.”  She turned away, holding her wrist under her eye as the tears started to fall.

“No, Cosette,” Javert whispered.  “We both have a place in his life… and his heart.  He’s feverish… he’s just feverish.”  After a quick look at Javert, she wrapped her arms around him and started to sob.

Awkwardly, he enveloped her in his arms.  “I would tell him the truth, you know.  If you wanted.”

“No, it’s good that he loves one of us.”  She pushed herself back from him a bit.  “He thinks I haven’t been courted.  There is a man who I have feelings for… Marius.  He’s a good man, from a good family.  I don’t agree with all of his ideals, but… in these times one can’t be too elitist.  Now that I know that papa doesn’t… need me… I’ll grant him permission to court me.”

Javert paused.  He knew of a Marius, who was trying to lead the peasants in revolt.  He figured it couldn’t be the same man.  “Your papa will miss you.  But, neither one of us would ever dream of holding you back.”  He pressed a gentle kiss to Cosette’s forehead.

She sniffled, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes and nose with it.  “Thank you, Javert,” she whispered.


	21. The First Dropped Petal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's mistreatment of Cosette continues.

Cosette looked at the dresses before her.  After a full day of shopping, she had almost narrowed it down. 

On the carriage ride over, Javert had explained that the officers would be in blue, so it would be best for her to choose a color that complimented blue.  She looked at the pick dress with the lace and bows.  While she loved lace and bows, it seemed juvenile.  And, if she was looking to be courted, she should not be considered juvenile at any function.  She did rather like the blue and white striped dress.  It fit her well and accentuated her features, but blue was the color for the officers.  She also was looking at a hunter and sage green striped dress with yellow lace trim.  The yellow was soft and the contrast with her blue eyes and blonde hair made her feel like a pastoral scene.

Javert cleared his throat.  Again. 

She gave him a pleading look.  Pleading blue eyes met cold brown ones.  He was not in the mood to wait – and she had already made him do so for over an hour.  “All right, all right the green please.”

“Do you need petticoats?  A hat perhaps?” the sales woman pressed gently.

“No, just the dress please.  Credit – .”

“I would like to open a line of credit here,” Javert interjected.

“I’ll put it on Monsieur ValJean’s line of credit, as usual,” the sales woman stated, walking towards the counter.

**Les_Miserables**

“I would have bought you that dress,” Javert said as he helped Cosette into the carriage. 

“No need for you to sully your perfect reputation on a street-rat like me,” she said with a smile.

He looked at her, scandalized.  Certainly, Cosette had come from humble beginnings, but so had he.  So had Jean for that matter.  Cosette was a lady and was treated as such at home.  They never brought up her beginnings.   “Who called you that?” he asked.

“Nobody, it was a joke,” she said quickly, blue eyes gazing at the floor of the carriage.

“Cosette,” his voice was softer than he wanted it to be.  He suppressed a few coughs. 

His coughs drew her attention. 

“Who?” he asked between coughs.

Her look softened.  “You pushed too hard today, didn’t you?  I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He glared at her over the fist he was coughing into.  He was not amused that she had not answered his question and was turning the attention back to him.  When the coughing finally subsided he sighed.  “I’m fine,” he grunted.  “Now, who called you a street rat?”

“I saw Monsieur Thenardier today.  He… he reminded me of their bad reputation.  And, I worked there.  You… are perfect.  You have an amazing reputation.  And, everyone knows how wonderful papa is.”

“Cosette,” Javert commanded her attention.  “We all came from humble beginnings.  You are not a stre-a street rat.”  He sneezed suddenly, catching the spray  with the cuff of his sleeve. 

“Bless you.  And, thank you.  I apologize for stating such a thing.”  She watched as he blew his nose and wiped his mustache.  “And, thank you for offering to pay for the dress.  I really appreciate it.  I just didn’t want people to talk more than they do.”

He had heard the rumors about their family, of course.  They came in all levels of intensity, from the truth to he and Cosette being the couple in the relationship.  “You don’t worry about the rumors,” he said with a slight smile.  He sighed deeply, feeling his energy leech out of him.  She had stitched him back up the night before.  This time the stitching held well.  But, she was correct; he had over exerted himself. 

He felt her hand on his knee and opened his eyes, which he hadn’t realized were closed. 

“Rest, Javert.  We’ll be home soon and then you can go to sleep.  I know you’re used to working nights.  Your sleep cycle is completely off.  But, it’ll be all right.  They’ll return you to nights soon enough.”

He smiled at her as he felt his eyes drift closed again.

 **Les_Miserables**

“So, do I get to see the dress?” ValJean asked almost as soon as Cosette and Javert entered the house.  She looked at Javert, who she had just awoken in the driveway.   His pallor was too far off for her to think he was capable of anything except maybe getting some dinner and bed.  Her papa, she noticed, was equally as flushed. 

“Let’s not make Javert’s fingers get too tired, papa,” she said.  “Rather, I’ll make you some dinner and the two of you can rest.”

“Selfish,” ValJean muttered as he walked into the study. 

Cosette’s breath caught in her chest.  She looked at Javert, but he didn’t seem to have heard it.  Rather, than man looked nearly dead on his feet.  “Come,” she said, taking his elbow and walking him into the parlor.  “You sit in here and take a rest.  Papa’s in the study and I’ll just make a quick supper.”

“Cosette,” Javert called to her.  “Your papa wanted to see the dress.  Show it to him.  Supper can wait.”

“Yes, of course,” Cosette said, going up to her room to change. 

When she came back down the stairs, Javert had already started to cook dinner.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as she watched him turn away from the stove to sneeze harshly. “You’ll hurt yourself.  Please, let me do it.”

“I will be fine.  Go do what your father wants,” Javert insisted as he cleaned his mustache. 

Due to it being improperly secured in the back, the dress fell forward with the weight of the fabric.  Cosette knocked on the door to the study and was given permission to enter. 

“Papa, thank you for buying me the dress.  I hope you like it,” she said, coming before him.

Unfortunately, she was not met with her father’s approval.  Rather, his disapproving gaze struck her to the core.  “If you could not have the decency to put it on correctly, you ought not to at all,” he said, before looking back down.  “Now, go get into your proper clothes.  Javert looked positively ill and he’ll need to go to work again tomorrow.”

“Yes, papa,” she whispered, careful not to let him know how much his words had hurt her.  She went upstairs and carefully put away the dress.  When she came back downstairs, dinner was just about finished and her papa was fuming.  “You made Javert cook, while ill, so that you could show me an ill fitting dress?  I taught you better,” he admonished.

“No, Jean.  I cooked dinner on my own.  You wanted to see her wearing the dress.”

“Properly.  I’m raising a woman – a lady.  If I wanted a common street rat I would have left her with the Thenardiers,” he spat angrily.

Cosette said nothing, merely wiped the silent tears off her cheeks. 

Javert gasped.  Her father was the one who had gotten it into her head that she was a street rat?  That had to end.  “She _is_ a lady, Jean.  You’ve raised her properly.  She is no more a street rat than you or I.”

“It’s all right,” Cosette said, defending her papa.  “I guess sometimes, you just can’t escape who you are.”  She looked at the dinner that Javert had already plated.  “You two eat.  I’m not very hungry,” she said dejectly as she walked back up the stairs and into her room.

 


	22. Watering the Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert tries to connect with a wounded Cosette.

Cosette lay in bed for a while after she woke up.  She was surprised that she had slept throughout the night and her heart sank as the guilt overwhelmed her.  Not only had she slept through any needs they had, but it seemed that they didn’t need her at all.  Perhaps her papa was right.  It was time for her to leave the house on a permanent basis.  Over time, she had become the proverbial third wheel.  It was time for her to begin a real courtship. 

She smiled a bit.  If the men didn’t need her, that meant that she could attend a luncheon being hosted by one of her closest friends, Amanda.  Marius was certain to be there and the two of them could have a serious discussion.  She hoped he would not be too upset about her attending the Officer’s Ball with Raoul.  She figured that he would understand.  After all, desperate times called for serious measures.

She checked on the men before leaving.  Their bedroom door was open a bit and she peeked in.  Her papa was asleep.  Watching him sleep soundly brought a smile to her heart.  He was certainly on the mend.  And having Javert by his side helped him sleep immeasurably. 

“I’m sorry, papa,” she whispered with a sigh. She should have known better.  She knew that she should have known better.  He had been so kind to her and raised her just as she always imagined her mother would have had she been able.  But, it couldn’t last forever.  She had overstayed her welcome.  That much was obvious.

She came down the stairs quietly and was surprised to see Javert in his uniform, drinking tea.  “Ah good, you’re up,” he said, getting up and pouring her a cup of tea.

“You don’t have to, Javert,” she started to protest.  But, he put the cup on the table at the seat next to him.

“Please sit,” he offered.  His voice was still gruff, but it was apparent he was feeling much better.

She sat beside him, smiling politely.  She had trouble making eye contact with him.  She wondered how long her presence had put him out.  She wanted to apologize, but she didn’t know how.

“Cosette, I need you to do a favor for me,” he said, sitting up straight and regarding her as he would one of his subordinates. 

She looked at him seriously.  “Anything,” she answered seriously.

“What I’m about to tell you is serious.”  He sighed.  “I don’t want to tell you these things to scare you.  But, we’re starting to hear rumblings of a few society boys telling the people of Paris that they can rebel against the guard, the Prefects, and the King.  I need to know if you know anything about this.  Have you heard anything?”  He hoped she would tell him the truth.  He hoped it was a truth he would want to hear.

He thoughts drifted back to the serial killer.  He had been quiet for about a week and half.  Far longer than he had been before.  No bodies were found in chains.  No dead women with their tongues cut out.  The other guards hoped that he had gone to London to harass their police system. 

“Javert?”

He looked up at Cosette and realized that she had been speaking to him.   “My apologies,” he said.  “Could you please repeat that.”

“I said that I’ve heard these grumblings too.  They really think they’re doing something wonderful.  They really want to change the world.”

“Can you tell me who their leader is?”

She blinked rapidly and looked down.  She looked like she wanted to say something, but didn’t know how.

“Your Marius…” he prompted.

“There is no one, singular, leader.  There’s a group… and… yes… Marius is one of them,” she admitted.  She looked away.  Somehow, she had even started a relationship with someone that would hurt Javert and – by extension – her papa.   She wiped a rogue tear off her cheek.

“Cosette,” Javert said, commanding her attention again.  “I’m not saying that he is a bad person.  I just need you to tell me what to expect.”  His heart was breaking.  His angel was crying.  He was doing it to her.  She was starting to doubt her place in the house.  He didn’t want her to think he was forbidding her future as well.

She looked up, a bit of the spark he loved so much was gone from her eyes.  It sent a chill into his heart and, for a moment, he thought she was going to rebel against him. 

Instead, her eyes softened.  “For you, anything,” she pledged.  She owed Javert so much and he asked so little.  The least she could do was make his job easier.

He smiled half heartedly.  “Thank you.  Now, drink your tea and I’ll drive you to … where are you going today?”

“There’s a luncheon at Amanda Le Fey’s.  I would like to attend.”

He nodded.  “You need no permission from me.  But, I will let your father know where you will be.  Would you like me to drive you in or pick you up?” he offered.

“Oh… well you have to leave before I need to get there.  So, I just figured I’d walk. And, I’ll have Marius or Amanda’s brother drop me off afterwards.  But, thank you for the offer.”

He nodded and took a sip of his tea.  He could not deny that he was concerned about her.  “I will go into work later today if you allow me to drive you to the party.”

“I can’t threaten your job that way,” she retorted.  “You have to work.”

“And I will, but…” he did not want to tell her about the serial killer.  The poor girl had enough on her mind.  This was something for him to protect her from.  She may have grown up, but she still needed protection.  “Please, allow me this kindness,” he offered again.

She nodded her head in agreement and sipped her tea.  “Thank you,” she said with a small grin.  Things were starting to feel normal again.

 


	23. Uprooting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette returns from her night out and she and ValJean have a misunderstanding.

Cosette swept into the house with a smile on her face.  “Papa!” she called.  “I’m home!”  Being out was exactly what she needed.  Although Marius was not at the party, she had learned the latest fashions for hair and clothing.  It seemed that she had done just right with the green dress and she couldn’t wait to tell her papa.  She also heard some information that she knew that Javert would be interested in.  Between the two, she couldn’t wait to get home to tell them all about her day.

She found them sitting in the parlor talking.  Javert picked up a book and promptly began reading it.  Cosette was used to it.  This was how he gave her and her papa privacy. 

She walked over to her papa, who had a blanket draped over his legs and was wearing his house robe.  She placed her hand on his shoulder as she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “How are you feeling?” she asked, well aware that his fever was up again.  There was no salt in his sweat.  “You’re dehydrated,” she said, placing her package down on the short table.  “Let me get you tea.  Javert? Tea?”

Javert grunted the negative at her.

ValJean smiled at her.  “Thank you.  I missed you today,” he said as she came back with the tea.

She smiled, “Your welcome.  Always, papa.”  She sat down with her tea, pulling her packages towards her.  “I just needed a day out, today.”

“It was nice to have you out of the house today,” ValJean agreed. “You’ve been doing a great job taking care of us, but you deserve a day out too,” he clarified.

She smiled and sipped her tea.  She knew the clarification was just him being nice.  He said what he meant initially.

“So,” she said, pushing through the heartache, “you would never believe what Madame Le Fey said about the butler of Monsieur Romenbleu,” she said, engaging her papa in the idle gossip of the day. 

Javert sighed but said nothing.

She paused immediately, recalling the promise she had made to Javert in the letter.  “Oh, but… they sent me home with a few pies and loaves of bread.  Um, I’m going to go put them in the kitchen,” she said, getting up and taking her packages into the kitchen.  While placing the items out, she noticed the post on the counter, including the letter that she had penned to Javert. 

She walked back into the parlor.  “Did you see the post on the counter?” she asked.

“Yes, it came days ago,” Javert answered.

She took a deep breath.  “Javert, I have things to tell –“

“Not at this moment,” he stated without looking up.  He hadn’t told ValJean that he had enlisted Cosette’s help.  He couldn’t imagine the man would be happy about it.

“Yes, of course.  I will cease my incessant nattering at you then.  Would you mind terribly if I sat with you?”

“Not at all,” her papa answered with a sniffle.  “I’ve missed you.”  He held his arm open to her, indicating that he wanted her to sit beside him. 

She smiled and cast a nervous glance at Javert, who didn’t seem to be paying attention.  “I’ve missed you too,” she said, taking her place beside him. She enjoyed feeling him sitting beside her, but not the feeling of his fever, which seemed to be relentless.  “How have you been feeling?”

As if in answer, he sneezed harshly into a well timed handkerchief.

“Bless you,” she said, applying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

He pulled away from her.  “You _are_ annoying,” he hissed.

“I apologize,” she whispered. She realized that she had been clingy to him.  He was always particular when he was sick.  If he wanted to be clingy or needed support, he would reach out for it.  She had needed his attention and gave him affection that he did not want.

He sneezed again and groaned. 

Hesitantly, she rubbed his back.  She was starting to doubt how to take care of him.  It seemed she could do nothing right.

He pulled away from her.  “Get _off_ of me,” he snapped, causing him to start coughing.

Unable to help herself, Cosette brushed his hair away from his face.  “I’ll get you water,” she said, getting up. 

“Just get away from me!” he barked between the coughs.  “I’d rather gossip with you than have you hanging on me like I’m some sort of invalid!”

“Of course.  My apologies,” she said, standing up.

He looked at her, confused.   “You don’t have to go.”  He missed her company.  She had been pulling away from him, and he wasn’t certain as to why. 

“I do… I’m tired and simply annoying you.  Javert can take care of you better than I can anyway.  He knows what you need,” she muttered quietly. 

“You’re welcome here,” ValJean stated, trying again to get his precious daughter to stay. 

“Thank you for your kindness.  I’m going to bed.  I had a long day and the officer’s ball is a day away. I will see you in the morning.  Sleep well,” she whispered, pointedly not looking at either man.  When she got to the door she regarded ValJean seriously.  “Don’t worry, I won’t burden you forever.”

A cold feeling squeezed ValJean’s heart.  She could never be a burden.  She was his light, his star.  But, before he could say anything about it, she had moved away from the doorway and up the staires.  “What just happened?” he asked Javert, confusion evident in his voice.

Javert put down his book and shook his head.  He had not been reading, of course, merely giving the two of them a little privacy.  He had watched as the situation unraveled.  And, he was left with two thoughts.  Cosette was deeply hurt, which was causing her to be much more awkward than usual, which was then touching off on all of ValJean’s sore points.   And, “Jean, you are a right bastard when you’re sick.”


	24. Perking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean and Cosette talk before the Ball.

“Cosette, please tell me what’s wrong,” ValJean said over breakfast the next morning.  Javert had left for work early and Cosette had yet to speak to him in any way except formally.  It was obvious that she was either very angry or very hurt.  And, he knew  that he was likely the cause of it.  He thought back to how a few misunderstandings had almost sent the man he loved most in the world away from his side.  He was fearful that a few others could cast his daughter out.  The very thought made his heart and lungs constrict painfully.

She smiled pleasantly.  “Papa, I told you, there’s nothing to say.  I’ve been awkward and off putting.  You’ve made it very clear how disappointed you are in me.  I’ll do better… and I won’t burden the two of you forever.”

None of that sounded correct.  Something was very wrong.  He realized that he must have said many things to her for her to think so little of her place in the house and in his heart.  “Cosette, you are not a burden – or a disappointment … not to me or Javert.  I don’t – Har-ek-Tashoo!”  Congestion filled his head and he sniffled against it.  “Guh… huh… Hesshoo!”  He took a shuddering breath and then sneezed again, “Hep-Etshoo!”  After a stuffy blow he turned his attention back to Cosette.

“Bless you,” she said.  “Papa, it’s nothing I shouldn’t have known.”

He sighed, exhausted.  “No.  You know I say things that I don’t mean when I’m sick.”

“I do,” she said kindly with a nod.  “But, nothing you said wasn’t true.  You said that you love Javert and that I came from humble beginnings and that I was clingy… and that I should be courting.  All of these are true.  Her eyes lit up a bit as she thought of Marius.  “We’ve discussed courting and I think he really is interested.  I-if you’re willing, I’ll bring him over for introductions.”

It was only a matter of time.  He knew that she could not stay his little girl forever.  “I would like that,” he said with a smile.

“I apologize for being clingy last night.  I didn’t mean to treat you like an invalid.  I just worry… cholera is such a devastating disease.  And, then to catch the flu right after… I was worried for you.”  Love shone in her eyes.  She knew that she had glazed over what she was actually told over the last week.  But, there was no need to stress the poor man more than he already was.

ValJean knew that something else was wrong.  He loved Cosette and had revolved his life around her for many years.  She was doting, kind, considerate, and loving.  But, she was an awful liar.  He reached across the corner of the table and took her hand.  “You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

The look that she gave him said that she would not. 

“Cosette, you can tell me anything.  Anything at all.  Whatever it is that is bothering you, I want to help you through it.”

She knew that he meant it.  But, how could she continue to burden him with the problems that he had complained that she burdened him with?   “Oh, papa, you’re so good to me,” she said with a smile.  She smiled as she poured him another cup of tea. 

He smiled.  “You deserve it.  Everything I can give you and more.”  He took her hand and kissed the back of it, squeezing it tightly as he looked at her, eyes shining with pride.

She smiled back.  For the first time in days she felt like she was actually welcome in the house.  “So, will you be attending the ball with Javert?” she asked.

“No,” he breathed.  “Even were I well, it’s not the persona that he wants to put forward.”

She frowned.  “I’m sorry… “ She didn’t like the idea of her papa being the secret boyfriend.  Although, everyone knew the rumors and that Javert came home to them.  So, it wasn’t a huge secret.

“Nothing to be sorry about.  He is the best companion of my life.  I can’t imagine sharing my life with another person.   If he needs to be someone else in front of his subordinates, I cannot begrudge him that.”

“Don’t worry, papa, I will protect the most important person in your life.  I’ll make sure he is hydrated and doesn’t overtax himself.”

A loving smile crossed his face.  “Thank you.  I know I can depend on you.  It means the world to me.  And to him as well.”


	25. Severed Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean realizes something has gone terribly wrong Cosette. But, Cosette refuses to talk about it.

Much to Cosette’s joy, ValJean went to bed a little early.  He requested that she read to him though, which worried her.  The man was on the mend and did not need her to read for him.  She recalled him reading by himself while he was in the theros of cholera. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, sitting beside him.  Her hand brushed his greying hair off his forehead as he lay down and soothed the blankets over him. 

“I don’t know where Javert is.  He’s late and I … I need – HERCHEFF!”  The sneeze nearly bend him in half and was followed by several smaller, more restrained sneezes into a cupped hand.

“Bless you,” she whispered as she handed him a handkerchief.

After one final, violent sneeze, he took the handkerchief and blew his nose fully. 

“I should have –“ her voice caught.  “I should have called the doctor early on.”

He looked at her.  “You didn’t know it was going to get this bad.  And, really… we didn’t need a doctor with you at our side.”

She blushed.  “Thank you.  I do wish you could come to the ball with us.  She knew that he and Javert would not be able to dance, but there was something that made her feel more safe when he was nearby.”

“Ugh,” he moaned, leaning back again.  “Even if I could, I’d be miserable.  This… ailment… has really knocked me for a loop.”  As if to accentuate his point, he coughed wetly.  He turned to look at her with a smile. “But, through it all, I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.”

Cosette smiled.  “Thank you.”  But, she knew he was lying for her benefit.  She was selfish, weak, stupid, and a street rat.  She’d overstayed her welcome and she knew that with a courtship, she would need to stay at least another year.  She only hoped that he would find her worth keeping.

Dark searching eyes fell on her delicate features.  Something was different about her.  Something dark and untrusting.  These were effects he had spent nearly a decade trying to keep from ever crossing her face or heart.   He sighed.  “Cosette, I don’t demand much of you.  But, I need to know what is weighing so heavily on your heart.  Please?”  Javert had insinuated that he had perhaps said something to upset her during his ailment.  Judging by her reactions to him, he figured they must have been severe.

“I’m going to go wait for Javert,” Cosette said, placing a kiss on her father’s cheek.

“Cosette!” he called out as she reached the door.  “I love you.”  He didn’t say it often.  He showed her more than told her such things. 

Tears hung in her pale blue eyes, threatening to fall.  He placed her hand on the doorframe and looked back into the room.  “I know you did.  And I thank you for everything.  I … I suppose I’m just excited about tomorrow.”   In reality, she was anxious about ball.  There was something she couldn’t put her finger on that was worrying her.  Figuring it was just the stress of the last few weeks, she smiled sadly at him and walked down the hallway.

 _Did?_   he thought.  “My God, what did I do?” he whispered after her.


	26. Strengthening the Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean and Javert have a passionate moment. ValJean sends them on their way to the ball. But, he has a bad feeling about it.

Guilt, panic, fear… the feelings inside ValJean were anything except the excitement that he should  have been feeling as he watched his companion and his daughter prepare for the Officer’s Ball.  There were very few gala’s in Paris anymore, and the Officer’s Ball was one of the most important.  It was where the officer’s were able to politic socially and where Javert could project his state of alpha over those who protected Paris. 

Javert always wore his most expensive uniform,  adorned with all of his awards.  Generally a more modest man, he seldom wore any of his awards. The aggressiveness of his reputation for stellar work was obtained solely by his hard work and alpha personality.  Certainly, he had been decorated for his hard work, but he didn’t feel the need to brag about them.  It was one of the things that ValJean had fallen in love with first.

“Please tell me what I’ve said to her,” ValJean asked for the umpteenth time that day.  He was following Javert down the stairs for lunch.  Clad in trousers and a proper shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, it was apparent that ValJean had started to feel better, finally.

“Now is not the time,” Javert answered.  His tone broached no room for argument or other consideration.

But, ValJean was having none of it.  “This is the perfect time.  She is getting ready and we’re both well enough to have a serious discussion.  You must know what I did to her.”  He put a heavy hand on Javert’s shoulder.  “Please tell me it’s not something I’ll regret.”

Javert took a moment and started to pour himself some tea.  “I’m fairly certain that it will be something you’ll regret.  You’ve coddled the child for far too long and so she’s not used to handling you when you’re being difficult.  Especially since you tend to save those charming characteristics for me,” he said, with a touch of sarcasm.

“She told me what I said to you, and only because of that was I able to properly apologize.  Now please, do her the same courtesy,” ValJean reasoned.

Javert sighed.  “Were we not getting ready to attend the Ball tonight, I would likely do just that.  Although, she has taken what you have said to heart _and_ wishes me not to tell you what little I do know.”

ValJean poured himself a cup of tea and sat at the table. “She has not told you then?  Not confided in you?”

Javert rolled his eyes.  “This is not something that she would do, Jean.  _You_ are her confidant in all things.  I only know what has either come up in front of me or that she has allowed slip.”

“So she’s taken things in, but not let them out,” ValJean muttered.  “Have you forgiven her for her anger that night?”  What as it? Two weeks before?  It felt like a lifetime had passed.

“Of course.  There was nothing to forgive.  And I told her that.”  He smiled sadly as he recalled how upset she had been. 

“Javert, please… tell me anything,” he pleaded again.

“This is not the time,” Javert responded in an exasperated tone.  “If you apologize to her now, it will only upset her.  She has spent a great deal of time and money to prepare herself.  We will discuss it later – after the ball or tomorrow.   But, not before.”  He didn’t want to tell ValJean, but he was starting to become more than a little concerned for Cosette.  She had been taking her leave for bed earlier and earlier.  She would disengage from any conversation or situation the moment she thought her father could be displeased with her.  She had stopped gossiping – even while Javert was at work.  And, if what ValJean had told him when he came to bed the night before was true, she was starting to doubt that her father still loved her at all.  He wondered if her leaving them alone was some sort of penance for a wrong-doing that they didn’t realize existed.

“One thing… just tell me one thing that I said.  Anything…”

Exasperated, Javert put down his teacup with a clatter.  “Well you know, you did call her annoying.  And, if this is any indication, I must say you taught her well,” he snapped.

ValJean thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion before responding, “But that was only that one time…” he whispered more to himself than to Javert.

“Well if her response was any indication, it wasn’t the first time you said such a thing,” Javert responded. 

ValJean sighed and looked down.  He raked a hand through his graying hair.  Before he could say anything, he found himself pushed up against the wall.  He ducked his head to avoid the wall sconce and enjoyed the intimacy.  It wasn’t often that Javert initiated affection, especially not something so intimate.  He pulled Javerts hips towards his and ground against them, enjoying feeling the raw passionate heat coming off his companion.

Her heard a creak at the top of the stairs, but it didn’t faze him.  Suddenly, Javert pulled away, hiding his passion behind a stoic expression.  Apparently, he had heard the creak too – and it fazed him.

Cosette smiled, her eyes glistening with happiness as she watched the two men she loved most in the world share a moment of passion.  Javert – clad in his best military uniform, adorned with his many medals – had let his heartless façade down far enough to show her papa how he felt, in no uncertain terms. 

She quirked an eyebrow as her papa showed how much better he was feeling by taking an intimate gesture to a place of sexual pleasure.  She started to withdraw back to her room, to give the two men some of the time that they so obviously needed, but the floor creaked beneath her.  She winced and watched as Javert withdrew as though he was caught committing a cardinal sin. 

She caught his eye and smiled as he stood at attention and nodded to her curtly, his swollen lips quirking up in to a proud smile.

ValJean followed his companions line of sight and his heart soared when he saw Cosette at the top of the stairs.  Properly adored in her new green and white vertical striped dress and accessoried with the sapphire necklace  and pearl earrings that he had gotten her for her birthday the year before.  The blue of the gem set off the blue in eyes.  Her hair was held back with green ribbons and cascaded gently over her shoulders like a waterfall of curls.  As he watched her come down the stairs, he would have sworn he was looking at a picture of heaven.

He received her with a hug and a kiss at the bottom of the stairs, careful not to squeeze too tightly.  “You look lovely,” he whispered, planting a second kiss on her forehead.  He loved the way she felt in his arms.  She was a lady, through and through.  Javert was correct.  He had raised her well.

A hum of contentment emanated from her.  She loved being in her papa’s arms.  There was no where she felt more safe.  “You’re looking well yourself,” she said, sincerely.  It did her heart good to know that his fever was coming down.   She hugged him again, enjoying the safety of his embrace and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Turning away from him, she gave Javert a low, respectful curtsy, which was met with a deep bow.  Ever so gently, he reached out and took her hand.  He placed a gentle, dry kiss at on the top of her hand, never breaking eye contact with her.  “It will be my honor to escort you to the ball tonight, my dear,” he said. 

She smiled, her eyes shining with the gratitude and pride she felt from his statement.  Javert was one to mince words.  He did not compliment easily or lightly. For him to say such a statement was a true honor.  “No more so than I will be to arrive with such a dashing escort,” she returned. 

At the word ‘dashing’, Javert flinched, attempting to pull away his hand in the process.  Gentle eyes were instantly guarded and his focus darted from ValJean to the floor to Cosette to the wall, back to the floor, and up at Cosette.

But, Cosette did not let go.  Rather she held his hand lightly and held his gaze when he looked at her.  After a moment, she let go and he retracted his hand slowly.  She was concerned that he would not believe her.  But, she was not about to make him uncomfortable.  This was an important night for him.  She wanted him to feel confident when he arrived.  He would certainly be under enough scrutiny when he got there.

ValJean helped Cosette with her wrap.  “Now you take care.  Go to Javert if something doesn’t feel right,” he said out loud.  He pulled her close for another hug.  “Please take care of him. Something feels wrong,” he whispered to her. 

She pulled back and looked at him softly.  “Don’t worry, papa. I’ll take good care of the most important person in your life.  No harm will fall to him… and if necessary, we’ll come home early.”

He looked at her seriously for a moment. She had called Javert the most important person in his life.  An icy chill ran through him as he realized that it meant that on some level she undervalued herself.  He wasn’t certain how long she had those feelings, but he intended to see that she understood that she held great value in his life as well.

 He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He and Javert shared a smile as he helped Javert into his great coat.  He leaned over and kissed the shorter man gently.  “You be safe,” he said.

“I will,” Javert assured him with a nod.  He held his arm out to Cosette, who happily took it.  “And don’t you worry, I’ll make certain Cosette stays safe.”

ValJean nodded.  He knew that the two of them would keep each other safe.  He just couldn’t silence the nagging doubt in the back of his head.  He moved into the parlor and picked up his book.  Knowing that he woudn’t sleep well until they were safe back at home, he picked up his book and started to read. 


	27. Damaged Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette and Javert talk on the way to the ball.

Javert helped Cosette get into the fiacre (carriage) and made certain that her skirts were tucked in the way that they would wrinkle the least before carefully getting in himself.  Almost instantly, long nimble fingers reached up his sleeve and tugged out his handkerchief.

“HetCHOOssh!” he sneezed wetly, his eyes squeezing shut at the force.  He waited patiently, uncertain if he was going to sneeze again.  When it was apparent that he wasn’t, he wiped his nose and cleaned his mustache gently.  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine,” he stated, without even looking at Cosette.  He knocked on the carriage, indicating for the driver to go… holding the rank of Inspector had its perks.  Arriving to the Officer’s Ball in style was one that he enjoyed sharing.

“Jav-,” she started, her voice pitch a bit high with concern.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, sitting up straighter.

She looked at him coolly.  “As you wish,” she stated.  Her heart ached.  She didn’t want him to be put in a position where he had to show weakness.  There was nothing that would infuriate him more.  She took a small intake of breath and paused.  “Marius and his friends are quite zealous that General LeMarque should be freed,” she said, hesitantly. 

A short laugh burst from Javert.  “General LeMarque?”  He chuckled and shook his head at the audacity of these society boys.

“What did he do that you’re keeping him under house arrest?” she inquired gently.

He shook his head.  “House arrest?” he asked mildly.  “He’s not under house arrest.  He has cancer.”

She gasped.  That was not the story as she had heard it at all.  She had come to understand that LeMarque spoke for the people and so he had been placed under house arrest.

“If we were to let him go… he would die.  The poor man can barely walk.”  Javert was one of the few people who had been admitted to see him.  He recalled walking into the General’s darkened bed chambers.  He had stood at attention, his hat tucked under his arm, just as he would have done in his youth, when he served under him in the Napoleonic Army.  It was their past that had swayed the General to allow Javert to come see him at all.  Although he had seen much death in his lifetime, the almost certain death of his General was one that would be difficult for him to cope with.

Cosette fell silent for a moment.  She had grown quite fond of Marius.  But, if the man didn’t know what he’s talking about and was making Javert’s job harder in the process, then he was hardly a good match for her.  Her heart sunk as she realized that meant that she may be in the house more than a year.

“I may have to break my promise to you… just one!” she said, suddenly.

Brow furrowed in confusion, he looked across the dark fiacre as the moon cast shadows of his angel’s face.   “You have made no promises to me,” he said, cautiously. 

Guarded eyes tried to read his face.  He was in ‘inspector’ mode, meaning that his emotional and mental shields were high and thick.  She couldn’t read him.  “Didn’t you read the letter I sent you?”

“What letter?  And, why would you _send_ me a letter?  Couldn’t you just tell me?”

She gasped.  He hadn’t read the letter… which meant that it was _somewhere_. 

Suddenly, a memory flickered across his mind.  “Do you mean the letter that the neighbor boy gave me?  That’s been sitting unopened for quite some time.”  A pause and then, “What did you promise?”

Prickles of guilt ridden pain washed over her skin like a wave.  “I promised that… I would be out of the house within the year,” she answered quickly, suddenly becoming very interested in her gloved hands.

Serious eyes read her as though she was a convict to be broken.  “Why?” he asked, shortly.

“Beca…” her voice broke.  It wouldn’t do either of them any good for her to cry.  She would not feel better.  He would be at a loss as to what to do.  And, to make matters worse, her cosmetics would run.

“Cosette?”  His voice was gentle, concerned.

She looked up.  His face was swept with darkness.  She sighed lightly.  “Because I’m a burden… I keep you and papa from being truly happy.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” he asked, incredulously.

“I’m the reason you left.  Papa was so unhappy.  I didn’t mean for you to leave.  I promised you that if you would come back, that I would be out within the year.   But, if Marius is not a good match… then it may take longer.”

“Cosette, I’m in no rush to get you out of the house.  It’s your home too.  You stay as long as is necessary.”

“No,” she replied kindly with a slow shake of her head.  “I have overstayed my wel-come.”  Her voice shook.  “It was only a matter of time really.  How could papa ever love someone born in the gutter?”

Javert visibly flinched.  Not for the first time, he wished that ValJean had told Cosette the truth about their respective pasts. 

“How long have you felt this way?” he pressed, hoping that she wasn’t right.

“Only since he started saying what he’s been thinking… that I’m weak, selfish, annoying… you know, things like that.”

“Street rat,” he whispered, anger tinging the edge of his words.

Angry blue eyes flashed at him.  “Yes,” she hissed.

“You’re not a street rat, Cosette,” Javert assured her. 

She did not respond, choosing to watch out the window of the fiacre for the rest of the ride.


	28. The Trade-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and Cosette go to the ball. It ends in a way neither of them expected.

The high vaulted ceilings were adorned with gold eaves, intertwined with gold pain leaves.  The archways over the windows were draped with blue and red silk swags, with the white curtains drawn partway.  The light flickering from the lanterns on the street, blended the beauty and darkness of Paris and set the perfect illumination for star gazing.  The wrought iron chandelier in the entryway was in stark contrast with the crystal drop chandeliers which lit the main room.  

Javert lead Cosette in on his arm, as was the proper thing to do.  His step was steady and confident.  His gaze was guarded and eyes were set straight ahead.  But, Cosette knew better.   She knew that Javert was analyzing ever every face, every fashion – even if he didn’t fully understand them -, every window and doorway. 

He took a quick stutter breath and let it out slowly.  “I don’t see Raoul,” he whispered. 

She couldn’t help but feel disappointed.  She felt a slight blush rise in her cheeks at the idea of having been stood up. 

“I will not allow him to embarrass you,” he said, turning to her slightly.  His eyes never reached her face, however.  Rather, he nodded curtly as people came by and greeted him.  “If necessary, I will stand in.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.  It had been a long difficult week.  While being Javert’s consort was an honor, it was not the evening that she had hoped for.

“Yes, I will dance with you,” he whispered, curtly. 

She cast him a sideways glance, slightly quirking her eyebrow as she did so.  Javert did _not_ dance.  It was simply a fact of life.  He would stand in the corner, looking foreboding. 

He worked at not fidgeting under her glance. He had never been able to keep up on the latest dance trends, and so he felt significantly out of place when he tried to partake.  Conversely, he secretly enjoyed dancing with Cosette.  She would guide him gently, always making certain that it looked like he was leading.  While he would never dance with anyone else.  If he danced with her, he would be all right.  He had confidence in this fact.  Simple as the fact that there was a God.

He turned his head as he heard Raoul’s voice.  The conversation was partial, as it wasn’t his to take part in.  “…want to bring it for … well six of course… but, oh! You’re so funny!  … one lady…”

Leading Cosette to the right a bit, he nodded at Raoul.  “He’s there,” he said, bringing her to her proper consort.  A curious sense of disappointment took hold on him as he realized that he was looking forward to having Cosette act as his consort.  Society wasn’t ready for he and Jean to be out in the open together.  Certainly there were still fops about, but he did not wish to be counted among them.  Neither did Jean.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice laced with genuine gratitude.  It took all of her restraint not to kiss him on the cheek. 

“You two enjoy the ball,” he said, after he and Raoul exchanged pleasantries.   “Cosette…” he kissed her hand and gave it a squeeze before letting it go.  It was his way of saying that he was watching.  She understood and nodded politely.

“It’s good to see him feeling better,” Raoul said, leading her to the side of the room. 

She nodded with a small sound of agreement.  “I brought this for you,” he said, pulling out a small corsage and pinning it to her dress. 

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with delight.  “Thank you,” she said with a small curtsey.  She wished her papa could be here to see this.  It would serve as proof that she wasn’t a street rat.

The night continued much in the same way, with the two of them sharing pleasantries and coy looks.  She found her heart fluttering just a bit, but her mind was not stimulated the way it was with Marius. 

He lead her to the dance floor, which she enjoyed very much.  They started with the waltz, which she enjoyed not only because she enjoyed doing the dance, but because she could catch glimpses of Javert.  She was surprised to see how much he watched her.  Even while he was greeting others, he would steal looks in her direction.  She was pleased that they were keeping their promises to her papa – they would keep each other safe.

As the night wore on, she realized that his color was off.  He was becoming pale and more than once she saw him suppress a cough.  Guilt gripped her heart.  The ball had been too much for him and she had kept him out far too late.

Requesting permission from Raoul to dance with Javert, she smiled as the young man lead her over to him. 

“The next dance is a gavotte,” she whispered.  She curtsied respectably.  “Might I have the pleasure of the next dance, Inspector?”  She smiled knowingly when he gave her a curt nod in the affirmative.

Smiling a little too pleasantly, she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.  Carefully, she lead him through the particulars of the dance.  She loved watching him dance.  His stoic form always relaxed just a bit and made the dancing look very natural. 

“Are you well?” she asked, smiling to betray the seriousness of the conversation.

He nodded slowly, casting his eyes to the side. 

He was tired.  Very tired.

“Would you be terribly bothered to take me home after I say goodnight to Raoul?”

“I would greatly appreciate the privilege,” he responded.  He turned away from her and buried the lower half of his face into his wrist.  A stuffy sneeze  made its way out and he winced, jerking towards his injured side a bit.

Cosette understood and as soon as the dance was over, she went to say goodbye to Raoul.

Javert waited by the coat room for her to come get him.  He sighed, annoyed, as the minutes rolled by.  _By the stars that girl can talk_ , he thought.  He took his strategic position to say goodbye to several officers as they left.  His heart sunk when he heard the clock chime the next hour.  He was beyond spent and hoped that Cosette would not be offended if he slept in the fiacre on the way home.  Knowing her, she would want to talk.  He didn’t want to offend her.  The poor girl was upset enough already. 

His eyes focused angrily when he thought about all the things Jean had called her.  He hadn’t wanted to beat the man so badly since their tenure in Toulon.  He knew that they would need to talk things out.  But, he didn’t want to talk.  He wanted to punch something –hard and many times.

“Have you seen Cosette?” he asked a few of the attendees that he had seen at other social functions.   Several of them told him that they had seen her go outside with her consort.

 _Strange_ , he thought, going outside to find them.   His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he realized that they were not in the courtyard.  Where had she gone?

A butler came up to him and gave him a letter.  “A note for you, sir,” he said, handing Javert a small envelope.   He sighed in frustration, thanking the butler and taking a few steps away for privacy.

_Inspector,_

_You once stole something very precious from me: time.  So, now I will return the favor and steal something special from you: youth.  You’ll find her at the place where you stole my time… or you’ll find your young beauty in chains._

_Raoul_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for a twist?


	29. A Trail of Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert begins his search for Cosette.

Javert felt as though shards of ice were coursing through his veins, leaving splinters as they passed through.  He shivered in the pale moonlight and thought about the letter.  Time.  He had stolen time. 

He gazed out into the darkness and saw the face of the great clock that shone over Paris.  _‘Time… of course,’_ he thought.  Without a second thought, or going back for his great coat, he took off in a dead run towards the clock tower.  His side pulled terribly, but it didn’t matter.  He could not go home without Cosette.  It wasn’t an option.

He ran up the stone steps of the clock tower, the soles of his boots clacking on the stairs as he ran up the flights to the top.  There were a number of vagrants sleeping in the corners.  Generally, he would shoo them out, but he didn’t have time to think on such things.  “Cosette!?” he bellowed as he went up the stairs.  His voice echoed in the tower and made the bell vibrate.  But, he couldn’t hear anything.  “Cosette!?!?” he called as loudly as he could.  He reached the top gasping for breath as a few harsh coughs ripped from his lungs. 

He paused and looked over the edge, squinting in the moonlight as he realized there was a piece of paper being held down by a rock.  He heaved with exhaustion and disgust.  It was like some horrible scavenger hunt. 

_You went to the clock tower for time?_

_How simple-minded._

_I’ll give you another hint, Inspector: My time started with 2:46._

Javert looked around, his mind straining against the fogginess that was taking over his brain.  Time… 2:46… Work… of course.  Javert was always taking so much of Raoul’s time…

Without another thought, he ran back down the stairs and to the Ball.  He had the fiacre take him to the station of police.  “Cosette!?” he yelled, as he ran up the stairs to the main door.  He called for her again when he got inside. 

Nothing.

He sat at his desk and buried his hand in his fists.  “Dear God, what am I going to do?” He knew that he couldn’t go home… he couldn’t admit to Jean that he had lost Cosette.  He had to find her.  He had to do it alone.

But, he couldn’t.  And he knew it.  Tears spilled down his cheeks and he was grateful that no one was in the office.  Jean would leave him for this… or kill him.  Either way, Javert knew he deserved what he got.

Slowly and painfully, he got up and walked out to the fiacre and asked the driver to take him home.


	30. A Second Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantine visits Jean in his dreams.

Jean yawned widely and rose out of his chair with a groan.  The clock had just struck midnight and he was exhausted.  He stretched himself and wished that Javert and Cosette were home.  He had wanted to be awake for them.  But, he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

“Heh-Chetch!”  He buried his nose into his handkerchief and relieved it.  He gave a sigh of relief afterwards.  His symptoms were more pronounced as exhaustion set in and he didn’t want to be a sneezing, sniveling mess for his loves to take care of after a long night out.

He put himself to bed, as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Fantine before him. 

He jerked his eyes open and looked around the room.  Nobody was there.  After a few moments, and another stuffy sneeze, he closed his eyes again.  Fantine was there again.

“My daughter needs you,” she said simply.

Guilt crushed his heart.  ‘ _I know_ ,’ he thought back at her.  ‘ _I know I have been remiss on my duties.’_

She shook her head gently.  “No.  My daughter needs you.”

 _‘I will make sure she knows she’s loved,’_ he promised, still upset about how Cosette had undervalued herself before the ball.

Fantine shook her head again.  “My daughter needs you,” she repeated a third time before disappearing.

Uncertain what to make of what just happened, Jean let himself fall into a deep sleep.


	31. Strength Comes from the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert thinks on his options before telling Jean what happened

Javert stared at the house trying to build up the courage to go in.  Never in his life had he been so apprehensive to do what was right.  His gaze rose to the stars above, but he could not see them due to cloud cover.  He swallowed and looked down.  He could leave… just disappear.  He could ask his prefect for a new station.  But, then nobody would go after Cosette and Jean would never know what happened to either of them.  No, that was the cowards way out.  Javert considered himself many negative things, but he was not a coward. 

He took a shuddering breath.  He knew that every second he waited, Cosette was in peril.  He knew that he needed Jean’s assistance.  He knew that he had let his companion and angel down.  He did not deserve them.  He had been tricked by a… by a friend.  This is why he did not make friends.  He could only trust himself.  

But, standing outside looking at the house wasn’t only letting himself down.  It was letting everyone else down too.  Cosette, he had no doubt, believed he was looking for her.  Jean deserved to know what a failure as a protector he turned out to be.  How could he protect an entire city, but let his angel disappear? 

He laughed bitterly at the reality that he had wanted to beat Jean within an inch of his life for calling her a street-rat. Now, he was the one who deserved to be beaten.  Flashes of growing up in cold, uncaring boarding houses and orphanages filled his head.  He was beaten for the most ridiculous things then.  Picked on for being an orphan of the Revolution.  Watched his friends be shot down around him in battle.  Ignored the reality of the other recruits getting married and having families.  And then, when God finally grants him a kind, loving companion and the angel of a daughter, he screws everything up.  Some people didn’t deserve to have been given the gift of life.  He wished he had been one of those souls that God overlooked, surpassed, or threw away completely. 

He straightened himself up an stilled his heart.  No matter what happened to him, they deserved better.  He would give them the best of his skills, his heart, his life… and let them cast him out afterwards.  He knew it was what he deserved.  And he expected nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at work, so this is short. But the rest is in my head. I'll get it into yours soon.


	32. Trail to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert tells Jean about Cosette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your tissues

“Jean,” Javert, shook the shoulder of the older man.  His skin was hot through the covers.  “Jean!” he whispered louder.  Beads of sweat started to roll down his face.  He was exhausted.  His side was throbbing.  And, he had flash backs to the month before… he couldn’t wake his feverish companion then either. He had called him 24601. “ValJean!” he bellowed, his voice ringing off the walls and ceiling. 

Jean jumped and looked at him through bleary eyes.  “Javert… come to bed,” he said, sleepily, nuzzling back into the pillow.

“No time,” Javert said, sitting next to him on the bed.  He moved sweat soaked hair off Jean’s face.  “I’m sorry, but you have to wake up.  There is a problem that cannot wait.”  He stared at Jean seriously, as though he was willing him to wake up.

Jean caught the look in the moonlight.  “What is it?” he asked, sitting up.  “Are you all right?”

 _‘No,’_ Javert thought.  But, this problem wasn’t about him.  It was because of him.  He shouldn’t have et her out of his sight.  He shouldn’t have been so careless with his angel… his angel. 

A flash of heat that burned him from the inside out made him shudder.  What if she really was an angel now?  What had he done to her?

“It’s Cosette,” he whispered.

“Cosette?” Jean said, pushing Javert to the side as he ran into Cosette’s room.

“She’s not in there,” Javert called after him. 

Jean was back in seconds.  “Where is she?” he asked, coming towards Javert in the most menacing way that he had seen since Toulon.   He grabbed Javert and shoved him up against the wall next to the bed – the toes of Javert’s boots barely scraping the floor.  “Where is she?” he snarled.

“If you put me down, I’ll explain what I know,” Javert gasped, already starting to see stars.  He fell to his feet with a thump as he watched Jean start to prowl the room like a caged animal.

“Where is she?” Jean seethed, not looking at Javert.

“I don’t know,” Javert answered honestly.  He found himself pressed up against the wall again. 

“What did you do to her?” Jean growled.  

“What I did was let her say farewell to Raoul.  What you did was far worse,” he spat back, pushing Jean off of him.

“What I did?” Jean asked, coming back towards him and throwing a swing. 

Javert ducked and side stepped.  “Yes, what you did.  Calling her selfish, annoying, a street-rat… you crushed that girl like she never meant anything to you!” he yelled, throwing his own punch that Jean a deftly avoided. 

“You lie! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jean took another swing and connected with Javert’s lip, causing it to split.

“I’m not lying.  You crushed her soul.  You - .”  He didn’t get to finish his statement before Jean threw another punch, landing it just below his eye.

At this, Javert lunged at him, pushing his thumbs into Jean’s throat. 

They tossled for a bit until Jean pinned him down on the bed.   “What did you do to her?” he growled.

Javert’s glare bore into Jean.   “You really think that?  That I would do something to hurt her?”  The hurt was evident in his voice.  “If that’s the way you feel… if you truly do not trust me to be around her… I’ll leave as soon as we find her.  But, I need your help to do it.”

Slowly, Jean’s look softened.  He got up off of Javert and let the man fix his suit.  “What do you know?” he asked without looking at Javert.

“I know Raoul has her.  I know he took her to get back at me.”   He took a shuddering breath.  The tossle had reopened his wound and exhaustion was blurring the edges of his vision.  “We were leaving and she asked to say goodbye to Raoul.  And it took her some time, but I gave it to her.  By the time, I went to look for her, he’d nabbed her.  The butler brought me this letter,” he said, pulling the crumpled letter out of his pocket and handing it to Jean.  “Then I went to the clock tower… where this one was waiting.”  He gave him the second letter.  “I checked the station.  They weren’t there.  Now I’m here.”

“They’re at Toulon Prision,” Jean deadpanned.  “Time… we had nothing but time… and you… you bastard.  You stole it from us.  He must have recognized me when he was here… Two forty-six?  Two four  six… the beginning of my… designation.”

Javert built himself up inside.  It was the end.  It all ended here.  He could feel it. They never talked about Toulon.  They agreed to keep it behind them… in the distant past.  “I’ll go… I’ll deliver Mademoiselle Cosette to you and you’ll never see me again, Monsieur ValJean.”  His breath was catching and he was happy that ValJean’s back was still turned.  He trembled slightly and swallowed hard, blinking just as hard to keep his emotions in check. 

The coldness in Javert’s voice caused Jean to turn around.  “Javert?” he asked, gently.

“It’s Inspector Javert to you,” he responded, taking a few still steps forward.  “You rest,” he started before catching himself.  “I shall return your daughter to you, Monsieur.”  He started to walk out the door.

“Javert… Inspector?” Jean called after him.

Javert paused, but did not turn. 

“Do you want me to ride with you?”

He did.  More than anything else, he wanted Jean at his side for this.  Alone either one of them was a formidable enemy.  Together they were unstoppable.  “No,” he responded, his voice tight with pain, emotion, and exhaustion.  “I ride alone.”


	33. Following the Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean follows Javert to Toulon.

“Merde,” Jean swore as he watched Javert go.  He hadn’t meant to lash out at the man.  He was just so upset that he lost Cosette. 

“How do you lose a full grown adult?” he grumbled.   He recalled his dream: Fantine saying that Cosette needed him.  He had been warned.  He shouldn’t have been surprised when Javert came in and told him.  He should have known that Javert would be distraught.

The lies that Javert said, about him calling Cosette such awful things pushed him over the edge.  He would never call his darling such horrible things.  She was the light of his life.  He would never do anything to hurt her that way.

But, Javert wasn’t a liar.  He was steadfastly honest.  If he said that these things happened, there had to be a reason behind the words.

He breathed out a deep breath and sat heavily on the bed.  He closed his eyes and envisioned Javert.  Something had been off about him, but it was hard to see in the moonlight.  He was slowing fighting… that wasn’t right.  Javert had boxed in his youth.  The man was quick, nimble, and could land a punch in an instant.  His timing was off. 

 _‘He’s feeling ill…’_  he thought as he rubbed his temples.  “He must be so tired… and his wounded side.”  Guilt gripped his heart.  _‘Javert must have been guilt ridden.’_   He imagined how hard it must have been for Javert to admit he lost Cosette.  “Damn,” he muttered, changing into his clothes.  He couldn’t let Javert save Cosette and then disappear.  He had to bring them both home.


	34. ValJean Makes a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This should go before Javert reaches Toulon. Sorry, it came to me a bit out of order. 
> 
> Mentions of blood and gangrene. 
> 
> Javert is suffering - a LOT - and ValJean makes a choice of who to save.

Javert rested, out of breath and in pain.  The sun was rising up over the hillsides and he realized that he was a fool to ride alone.  He groaned as he removed his jacket, sweat pouring off of him from exhaustion and pain.   “Awwwhhhahh,” he yelled as he removed his shirt, drenched in his own sweat and blood.  His wound was open and seeping.  The skin around it holding the tell-tale hue of the onset of gangrene. 

Braced against the side of a tree, he dug through his pack, pulling out a small pair of scissors.  He knew he would have to cut away the offending skin before the gangrene spread.  At this rate, he would never make it to Cosette. 

He bent his head backwards and rested it against the trunk of the tree.  Closing his eyes he recalled when he had been in the navy all those years ago.  As a young man, he had served in the King’s Royal Navy, earning himself the commission that finally earned him a place in the police.  But, he had seen this horrific effects of gangrene.  He recalled as the Captains’ cabin boy was wounded and had not told anyone.  By the time the surgeon was alerted, the gangrene had seeped into the wound.  The boy died from complications of the surgeon trying to remove the gangrene.   Javert had been the surgeon’s assistant.

He stuffed his handkerchief into his mouth, knowing that he was going to scream in protest.  He would give anything to feel Cosette’s fingers, slick from turpentine oil on his skin.  To see her caring eyes looking at his feverish body, confidently and competently.   To know that Jean was right behind her, if he wasn’t holding him down so that she could sew his wound shut.

How many times had she sewn his wounds closed?  Countless.  He had always been so ungrateful.  So closed off and stoic.  She had come to know him that way.  He tried to remember the last time he thanked her for her care.  He thought he may have done so once or twice during the past few weeks, but before that?  Never.   He deserved to go through this.  He deserved it to make him appreciate what he had – to appreciate what he lost.

He screamed as he cut off the offending skin, feeling his fingers become slick with blood.  His screams echoed off the valley around him.  Sweat intermingled with tears as he removed the rest.  He felt sick.  He hoped he would just die. 

_“My daughter needs you,” Fantine’s voice whispered in his head._

“I can’t,” he gasped through the pain.  “I can’t.”  He coughed wetly.  Pain shot through his side.

_“Inspector, no one else can find her,” Fantine’s voice pleaded with him._

“Jean will find her…” he breathed.  He coughed wetly feeling unconsciousness tickle his senses.

_“Inspector, she loves you.”_

He took a stutter breath and let the tears fall.  Sobbing through the pain in his heart and the pain in his side, he tried to still his stomach.  Finally, giving up on his pain, he lost the battle of consciousness.

** LES MISERABLES **

ValJean rode hard after Javert.  His horse was not used to being ridden as hard as Javert’s was – and certainly not at night.  He huffed as his breath caught in his chest.  He was not well enough to ride, but it didn’t matter.  Fantine had warned him that Cosette needed him.  He had failed his daughter.  His heart told him that Javert needed him.  He had failed his companion.  He kick his horse and bent down to try to brace himself again the wind. 

About an hour after the sun came he started to slow his horse.  The poor animal needed a rest.   His eyes squinted as he saw a grey horse.  “Gymont?” he breathed.  He scanned the area and didn’t see Javert anywhere.  He was nowhere near Toulon.  There was at least another day of a ride ahead of him.

 _‘Not good,’_ he thought as he dismounted.  “Javert!?” he called.  He ran down the street a bit.  “Javert!?”  His heart pounded in his chest.  Very few things could unseat Javert and separate him from Gymont. 

ValJean grabbed Gymonts reigns.  “Show me where he is,” he said mounting the horse.  Gymont started to buck, unhappy about carrying a rider other than Javert.   “Take me to Javert,” he said, choking up on the reigns.

Acting quite put out, Gymont trotted him down the lane to where his sleeping master lay in a puddle of his own blood.

ValJean dismounted and rushed to Javert’s side.  “What happened?” he asked, rolling his companion over and looking for signs of foul play.  He noticed his wound, opened and bleeding a new.  Javert’s hands were covered in blood.  In one hand in held a needle, in the other surgical thread.

“You have _got_ to be kidding,” breathed ValJean.  Stitches were woman’s work and he hadn’t had to do such things in rather a long time.  His thoughts flew to Cosette.  She needed him and he knew in that instant he had to make a choice: ride on to save his daughter or save his companion now.

“Forgive me, Fantine,” he whispered as he set to sewing up Javert.   A few long minutes later, he stared at his handiwork.  Not as good as Cosette’s, but certainly good enough.  Placing a gentle kiss on Javert’s forehead and nipping his ear, he decided to press on for Cosette.  Javert was in God’s hands now.

When Javert awoke a few hours later, he found himself raging with fever, but no longer bleeding.  He coughed gruffly.  Looking at his horse he snapped, “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long!”  His hand found his stitched side, though that didn’t seem possible.  He didn’t have time to think of how it happened, only that it had.  “Thank God,” he whispered, using the tree to help him stand.  He needed to ride on to Toulon.  There was no time to lose.

 


	35. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert reaches to Toulon and searches for Cosette.

Javert rode through the night to Toulon. His mind was plagued with memories of the prison.  He squeezed his eyes shut to shut out the stronger of the memories, hoping that the smell of sweat and blood that plagued his senses were part of the memories and not his scent at present. 

He coughed violently, the spasm shaking him.  He felt as though his energy was leeching away and he craved curling up next to Jean and sleeping through the rest of the weekend.  Bile rose in his throat as he thought of the way Jean had looked at him… had accused him of harming Cosette.  His heart yearned for Jean, to hold him… to be held… But, of course, these were foolish ideas.  They weren’t ever going to have that again.  Jean didn’t want him.  He had been cast out again.  Once was painful enough, twice was the end.

He thought of Cosette.  The young beauty had been as kind as she was generous.  Jean had done well in raising her.  He wondered if she would come visit him in Paris.  Had they not had the conversation in the carriage, he would have guessed no.  But, Jean had hurt her deeply and he had gotten the idea that she viewed him as a safe place, of sorts.  He figured that she wasn’t in harms way with Jean – especially as his fever decreased and his personality returned to normal.  He hoped that she would be able to find the virtuosity to forgive him, and the fortitude to let the pain go.  He knew that if she held onto the insults it would tear the two of them apart.  Even though he was no longer welcome in the home, he didn’t want her to suffer without him being there.

He arrived at the prison and ran up the stairs.  The prison had fallen into disrepair after its abandonment and he was able to easily open the door.  He winced as he realized that likely meant that people were living in there… had died in there.  Judging by the smell of the tunnels, more than one person had died in the prison.  He gagged and held his handkerchief over his nose and mouth to try to guard himself from some of the scent. 

He sneezed harshly twice, his head snapping forward each time and congestion blocking his sinuses.  The sound bounced off the walls and made him remember why he never showed weakness.  He turned suddenly, expecting an attack from behind. 

Shadows teased the edges of his vision and phantom screams echoed in his mind.  It was here that he had been one of the most ordered, yet ruthless, prison guards.  Nothing escaped his notice.  He knew each cell, each hallway, each ceiling, wall, and floor.  He knew how each prisoner was supposed to sound.  He knew how to test the limits of their flesh.  He looked in the room which had once been used to punish prisoners and was assaulted with the memory of whipping one of the inmates for trying to escape.  The memory flashed before him and he stumbled when he realized that it had been Prisoner 24601 – ValJean… Jean.

It had been a miracle that Jean had found the capacity to love him after such things transpired.  It was another miracle that Javert had allowed himself to see past Jean’s legal and moral transgressions and learned to love the man and understand the sociological reasoning behind the crimes.  But, of course, those miracles were for naught.  

His breath caught as he thought of what was lost.  He hadn’t deserved that sort of scorn.  But, when had life given him what he deserved?  Only professionally.  So, after Cosette was safe with her father, he would swear off love and caring forever.  Professional application of life skills was the only thing worth putting his energy into. He would not be so foolish as to make himself vulnerable again. 

He went into the old officer’s quarters and following the maze of hallways to the office.  He knew he would have to be smart to try to find Cosette.  She could be anywhere and, if Raoul was truly the serial killer that he had been tracking – she didn’t have much time life.

There was a note nailed to the door of the office and he tore it off.

_So close and yet so predictable._

_You spent your time here. I spent my time in a cell._

_But, I was chained under your watchful glance in the same place where Cosette is chained right now.  The labor is less, but the water is just as cold._

“Damn!” Javert swore as he ran towards the back of the prison.  The prison backed into the Toulon Shipyard, where the inmates would have to pull the ships in from open sea.  When the tide came in, the inmates would have to get the ship in and get out otherwise they would drown.

 _‘Hold on, Cosette,’_ he thought as he picked up his speed.


	36. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A VERY short chapter, setting the stage for the next (longer) one.

Jean perched above the shipyard as his heart pounded in his chest.  Cosette was strapped to a surgical table that looked like it had been removed from the prison infirmary.  She lay on her back, strapped down in chains as Raoul paced in front of her.  The tide was coming in and started filling the canal.  He was faced with a flashback from many years ago, where he was down there, pulling in ship after ship.  He could almost see Javert pacing above them, watching every movement and waiting for someone to step out of line.

His eyes drifted to the platform, expecting to see Javert, but it was empty.  He hoped the man was well enough to come help rescue Cosette.  Although, he knew that Raoul would never walk again one way or the other.

“So you’ve come,” he heard, echoing from below.  

Quickly, his gaze dropped to the rising water below him.  Javert stood squared off with Raoul.  _‘How the hell did he get there so fast?’_ he wondered as he started making his way down the wall of the canal.  If Javert kept Raoul busy, he could rescue Cosette.


	37. Rescuing the Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and ValJean work together to free Cosette.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of Blood

Fever coursed through Javert’s body.  His vision blurred with shock as he stepped into the cold seawater, which was rapidly filling the canal.  The tide was coming in and he knew he had no more than an hour to free Cosette.  He focused all of his attention on Raoul, casting a quickly look to Cosette as he could.  His mind felt slow and labored, much like his breathing.  He couldn’t focus on himself, though.  He knew if he did, he would likely pass out cold.

A harsh chill worked its way through his body as another wave splashed him about the knees.  His side was throbbing and he could feel the inflammation of infection tickling beneath the stitches.   So much had gone wrong, but this was the one thing he knew he could do well.

“Raoul!” he barked.  “Release her immediately!”

Raoul laughed a quiet chuckle, which was mostly drowned out by the crashing of the waves around them.  “No, I don’t think I will.”  He moved over to Cosette and stroked her cheek.  In return, she tried to bite him and he flicked her nose.  “So feisty,” he said calmly.  “Not so much like _you_ ,” he said, turning his attention back to Javert.  “You haven’t changed very much, you know.  Still so stringent.  Still so _military_.  But, her papa… now she’s quite like him, isn’t she?  Breaks the rules of society, no?  However, did _you_ find yourself amongst such a family?”

Javert was able to register that Raoul was talking, but the words were not.  It didn’t matter.  He had put his hands on Cosette, restrained her to chain her to a rickety old surgical table, and then flicked her nose.  Anger fueled his focus.  Nobody put their hands on Cosette against her will.  No one ever.

“You will unhand her,” he insisted.

Raoul held his hands out to the side.  “Well, you’ll notice, my hands aren’t actually _on_ her,” he teased.  “So I have done what you want.  It is time for you to obey me.”

Still unable to hear him, Javert’s breaths were leaving him in strangled gasps.  “What do you want, Raoul?”

“Just you,” he responded.  “Trade a life for a life.  I’ll release her right here if you take her place.”

Javert felt as though an icy rock had settled in the pit of his stomach.  Raoul’s words seemed distorted, as though he was under water.

“Don’t do it, Javert!” Cosette screamed out, taking his silence as though he was considering it.  “It’s all right,” she called, her breath twisting the last work into a strangled gasp.  Although not as she had envisioned, it would take her out of the equation.  He and her papa could be happy without her involvement.  She was certain they would grieve, but perhaps her death would draw them closer together.

Javert withdrew his pistol and pointed it at Raoul.  “You will release her.  And, she and I will leave.  You will not both her again.”

Raoul quirked an eyebrow at the out of character motion.  “Taking the law into your own hands, Javert?  I must admit, I did not think you had it in you.”

Javert’s hand shook with fatigue.  He wasn’t certain that he had it in him either.  This was far too extreme for his sense of balance.  He looked at Raoul.  “What do you want?” he asked, wondering if killing Raoul and then himself was the best option.

A cruel chuckle emanated from Raoul.  “Just you.  Here.  I will treat you like the animal you treated us like.”  He turned towards Cosette.  “Or had your papa not told you of his time in prison?”

“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken,” she responded without a second thought.  She knew she couldn’t struggle against the chains that bound her.  She only hoped that she would be released before the sea swallowed her whole.   She swallowed hard, forcing herself to believe that Javert would not let that happen.

“Oh am I?  Have you ever seen a branding on your father’s arm?  Does it read 24601?  How would I know that, except that I have a similar branding?”  He pulled up his sleeve angrily to reveal the numbers 24689. 

Suddenly, Javert remembered him.  He had been ValJean’s cell neighbor for a while, until they planned their first escape together.  Afterwards, neither ValJean or Raoul were well behaved, earning both of them well over a decade of extra time.  But, they were not causing trouble together.  “Brielle,” he grunted, remembering Raoul’s last name.

“Ah you remember,” Raoul replied.  “It was so educational, learning your trade – rising through the system after my release.”

“Your papers?” Javert asked.

“ValJeans?” he countered.  He chuckled.  “However did a man like you ever look past ValJean’s indiscretions, hm?  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Javert sniffed as the salt air cleared his sore sinuses.   A sneeze was building, but he did not want to show any of his symptoms.  Anything that could be taken as a weakness would be used as one.  

Suddenly, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.  Brown eyes slid to the side as she saw ValJean slipping into the water and submersing himself completely.   He wasn’t certain what was going to happen, but at least he knew he was not in this alone. 

Moving towards Raoul, he decided that he would do whatever it took to make certain that Jean and Cosette walked away from this unscathed.   His life was forfeit as long as they were safe.  He didn’t have much of a life to go back to anyway. 

Raoul opened his arms, turning his hands into fists, and bringing them up to box Javert. 

Acting as though he was taking the bait, Javert did the same.  But, as soon as he got close enough, he stopped repressing his symptoms.  “Hep-KESSSHOO!” he sneezed freely, catching Raoul full on in the face.

“Yeh-ik!” Raoul exclaimed stumbling backwards and falling into the water.  Javert wasted no time, dropping to his knees and tossling with him to try to hold him under the water. 

Just after they toppled down, ValJean stood up sputtering.  He had not expected to be tripped over, and had gotten the breath knocked out of him when Raoul kicked him in the ribs.

He raced over to Cosette, not concerned about Javert.  Sick or not, Javert could hold his own.  As the water rose above his knees, he knew that Cosette had far less of a chance of survival without getting freed. 

“Papa,” she breathed in relief, a smile crossing her pale lips.  “You came,” she whispered, as though she was looking at a hallucination.

“Of course I did,” he answered, quickly.  He looked over the table, knowing it well.  It had been in the infirmary.  Many a man lost his life on this table.  He would not allow his daughter to go with them.  The leather straps had been taken off and she was bound several times around with a door chain.  “Cosette, go as straight as you can,” he ordered. 

His knee nearly got knocked out from under him, as Raoul and Javert continued to tossle around him.  Turning around, he grabbed Raoul by the shirt, pulled him out of the water, and tossed him back a few feet.  He heard, rather than saw, Javert land on him in a flurry of blows.  If Raoul did walk away, he would be rather worse for the wear.

Turning his focus back to Cosette, he winced as he realized how tightly she had been bound.  He wouldn’t be able to slide her out of the chains as he had hoped. 

He heard Javert sneeze and hoped the man wasn’t tiring too badly.  “Cosette, you have to trust me,” he said, as he tipped the surgical table towards him. 

She shrieked in fear as she became partially submersed in the cold water. 

“Close your eyes and trust me,” ValJean commanded, as he let the water help buoy the table and pushed it into the side of the canal.  He heard the wood start the crack.  He dragged the table backwards and hit it again until it broke.   Finally, he was able to slip Cosette out and hug her close.  He smiled as he felt her arms slip around him and he pulled her close.  Pressing a kiss to her head he felt the flood of relief of holding her again. 

Suddenly, she screamed, “Javert!”

ValJean let her go and turned around, ready to kill Raoul.  The water around him was copper with blood, and Javert was being held under water. 

With a guttural, primal yell, he grabbed Raoul and threw him under the water. 

When he grappled Raoul, Javert was released and Cosette waded through the waist deep water to pull him up.  She gasped when she saw him, his eye was purple and swollen and his nose was bleeding profusely.  Focusing solely on Javert, she pulled him over to the side of the canal.  He mumbled something incoherently, but she shushed him, wrapping her arm around him as she stabilized herself against the wall. The water was rising steadily and she tried to figure out how to get him out of the water. 

It did not escape her notice that she could feel the heat burning off of him, through his uniform and through the cold water.  She hoisted herself up onto the nearest ledge and pulled him up onto it, wincing nearly as badly as he did as his back scraped against the edge. 

She lifted her gaze to her father, who was still grappling with Raoul.  “Papa!” she screamed.  She didn’t know if she wanted to see him kill Raoul, though she was certain that’s what he wanted to do.  But, if the water got much higher, they were both likely to drown.  And, she knew she could never get Javert back home on her own. 

Suddenly, a stricken look crossed Raoul’s face and the copper tones of blood filled the water around him.  Releasing him, ValJean swam to Javert and Cosette, hoisting himself onto their ledge.  Kneeing next to Javert, he felt the man’s face with his hand.  He shook his head and brushed Javert’s hair back.  “Just rest easy,” he whispered, we’ll get you home.

A harsh, wet cough ripped out of Javert and he struggled to whisper something.  Unfortunately, it was unintelligible and he slipped into unconsciousness before he could repeat it.


	38. Dropping Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette cares for Javert while he is exceptionally ill and nurses ValJean's cold. 
> 
> ValJean tries to draw Cosette out.

Cosette knelt down and poured hot water from the kettle into a basin.  Javert was wrapped warmly in blankets, with his bare feet resting in the basin.  He shuddered harshly when the water hit his feet, but soon wiggled his toes as puffs of steam rose out of the basin.  His face was pale and drawn, with fever staining his cheeks and rimming his glazed eyes with red.  His head lolled to the back of the chair and he looked at Cosette with a blank expression. 

She smiled warmly at him and brushed his bangs to the side, feeling for his fever.  It was still dangerously high.  She was pleased that he was awake, even if he wasn’t coherent. 

“Heh-ESSSH! Eh-heh-KESSSH!”  ValJean sneezed harshly.  She sighed slightly as she went over to her papa.  He had carried Javert out of the prison and walked Gymont, while she held Javert on the horse.  It had taken them several hours to get to the next town, where he was able to procure a carriage to take them home.  Two days letter, they were back in their own home, dry and together.

 “Bless you, papa,” she said, pouring what was left into a basin for him as well. 

He rubbed at his nose and blew it stuffily.  “Ugh, thank you,” he stated, sneezing stuffily. 

She sat next to him.  “And again,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.  His fever was present, but lower than it had been in weeks and he was acting more like himself.  She couldn’t help but be tired.  But, her two men needed her.  They hadn’t let her down, no matter how sick they were.  She could not do any less than her very best for them.

He nodded, allowing himself to lean into her.  “I’m sorry, Cosette,” he whispered. 

“No, papa,” she said, snuggling into his arm.  “No apologies.”  She was still hurt by his actions and words over the previous weeks.  But, he had come to get her.  He had not simply rescued Javert and left.  She wasn’t certain if he would have done such a thing, but some part of her expected him to.   Tears leaked from her eyes and she worked to hide them from the men in the room.

ValJean felt the tears leak through his shirt.  “What is it?” he asked gently.

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” she whispered. 

He pulled away from her, holding her out at arms length.  His angel was crying and trying to hide it.  They had all been through so much trauma in the past month that he couldn’t imagine allowing her to cope with her emotions on her own.  “Tell me.”

She wiped her hand under her eyes.  “There is nothing to tell.”  She couldn’t verbalize her thoughts.  She felt relieved to be next to him, but wasn’t certain how long he’d allow her to stay there.  She loved caring for he and  Javert, but she was starting to long for the old times.  She wondered if Javert would stay once he felt better.  She wondered if he would stay if she would leave.  And, she wondered where she would go.

“Cosette, tell me.”  His tone left no room for argument.

“It’s just… I want the two of you to be happy.  And I don’t know how to make it happen,” she said, her voice wavering.

ValJean looked over at Javert, who was somewhere between asleep and awake, looking around the room as though he had laudanum in his body.  “We will be, Cosette.”  At least, he hoped they would be.  Javert had taken an extreme risk, riding after Cosette alone on top of being so ill.  Luckily, he likely didn’t recall her reopening his infected wound, cleaning it out, and stitching him back up.  It had been several days since he had to move strenuously, and ValJean hoped this time his wound would have enough time to heal properly.  He doubted the family could take much more excitement.

Cosette got up to place a cool cloth on Javert’s head.  “Shh,” she told him when he jumped at the temperature of the cloth.  “You’ll be okay.  It’s just to take the fever down a notch.”

Javert looked at her as though he was uncertain that she really existed.  Slowly, his eyes started to drift closed.  Cosette sat lightly on the arm of the couch, stroking her thumb against his beard until he drifted off to sleep.

ValJean looked on, smiling slightly.  He thought of his sister and nephew, wondering what his life would have been like had they had just a bit more money to feed the boy.  He would have been without this life though.  Cosette would have been turned into a lady of the streets at the hands of the Thenardier’s and Javert would still had the heart of stone he portrayed to the world.  Perhaps all those years in Toulon were buying him something precious.  Perhaps…

“Papa, we should take Javert to bed,” Cosette suggested, interrupting his thoughts.

“No,” he stated plainly.  “Let him rest here.  I’ll go to sleep – and you do the same.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

She looked over at Javert sadly.  She didn’t want him to wake up alone.  But, he was so out of it, she wondered if he would wake up completely for several days.  She rather hoped not.  The poor man deserved to rest.  He had gone far above and beyond his obligations for her.  He should have let her die.  Then he and her papa could be happy alone.  They deserved that much.  And, she would find a way to give it to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. The next chapter will be up soon.


	39. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert finds the letter Cosette wrote to him WAAAAY at the beginning of the story. 
> 
> (You forgot about it, didn't you?)

Javert felt as though his head was going to explode, it was pounding so hard.  Fire raged within him and he had no earthly clue where he was.  His head lolled forward, causing it to throb even more painfully.  He looked at his feet, wrapped warmly  socks, which poked outside of the two woolen blankets which has been wrapped around him.  A dry cloth rested on his head, which he assumed had been wet with cool water at one time.

“HEH-Uh-huh-huh,” his breath caught as a sneeze built up within him.  He struggled to free his hands, but was too disoriented to do so.  “HEH-SHUMPESSH!” he sneezed freely, congestion quickly blocking his nasal passages.  He watched the spray detonate in front of him and sniffed thickly, grateful that no one had seen the display.  He coughed harshly as his head throbbed again.  He let his head rest into the back of the chair.  “PESHHEWW!” he sneezed again, wincing as it sparked husky wet coughs. 

He freed a hand and rubbed his throbbing temples.  He felt miserable – throbbing headache, flu, and fever.  Worse yet, he was thirsty.  He looked around the room, realization dawning on him that he was home. 

Coughing huskily, he unwrapped the blankets and shivered as the air hit him.  Shivering leeched most of his energy and he flopped back onto the chair.  He tried to remember how he had gotten there.  Closing his eyes he took a few breaths and tried to think back to the last thing he recalled.  He remembered riding to Toulon after the ball.  The cold water seemed to cause his insides to steam as it countered his raging fever.  And then – nothing.

But, he was home.  He hoped that Cosette was safe.

He needed tea.  A good cup of tea would clear his head and strengthen him for his walk upstairs.   He needed to be certain that Cosette was asleep.  She would care for him, he knew.  Then as soon as he was well enough, he would return to Paris.

Unsteady on his feet, he shuffled into the kitchen, using the wall as support.  His vision wavered in front of him and he felt like he was going up and down hills where he knew there not to be any.   He was grateful that there was already water in the kettle, for he knew he didn’t have it in him to pump the water.

He lit the fire and stood waiting for the water to boil.  The table simply seemed too far away. 

The minutes passed and the water began to simmer.  He picked chin up, from where it had been resting on his chest.  The motion changed the pressure in his head.  “HEH-SHUMP!” he sneezed forcefully.  He pitched forward, one hand covering his nose and mouth and the other coming to rest on the stove.  He screamed and cradled the burnt hand close to his chest.  He fet cold run through him and became dizzy and faint.

He reached for the dish rag that Cosette kept on the counter and wrapped his hand with it.  As he turned to brace himself against the counter he noticed an envelope with his name on it.  It was in Cosette’s hand.

Slowly, he picked up the letter.  It couldn’t be recent, since it had been under the dish cloth.  If she had left him a letter regarding whatever happened at Toulon, it would have been somewhere that he would easily see it from his chair.

Aging fingers trembled as he released the envelope flap.  They had all been through so much in the past month.  He wondered what Cosette would have to say to him that she couldn’t say to him personally.

_Javert,_

_My deepest apologies for disrupting your solitude last night.  Do allow me to explain that I was simply trying to care for you.  Sometimes you retreat so far into yourself that I fear that I won’t be able to reach you._

_Papa is miserable without you.  He wants you here, at his side.  He is ill, Javert.  The doctors say it’s cholera from bad carrots. I cannot care for him without you, and he wouldn’t want me to._

_I don’t know what I can promise you to make you come back.  But, if you wish me to leave so that you and papa can live as companions without having a child underfoot, please be rest assured that I will find somewhere else to go.  Please come back and let me know what I owe you for you to stay.  I will pay my debts to you in any way that you see fit.  But, I beg of you not to punish my papa for my indiscretion._

_Sincerely,_

_Cosette_

His heart froze in his chest.  She had carried this inside her since the beginning – since before ValJean took his illness out on her.   She had waited this entire time for Javert’s response on how to make up for her mistake.  No wonder she doubted her place in the house so deeply.  It wasn’t only her papa who had let her down.  Without even realizing it, he had let her down as well. 

He had to talk to Cosette before it was too late.


	40. Watering the Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and Cosette argue about what she owes him for her misdeeds.
> 
>  
> 
> Forty chapters - can you believe it guys? 40!? My guess is that this will be done by 50. But, then again, my guess was that it would be done by 16!
> 
> I know there have been requests for more plots of this family structure. I will do those in other stories. 
> 
> Thank you for continuing to read.

Cosette stirred from sleep as sunlight cast through her window.  She felt rested for the first time in she didn’t know how long and sighed deeply.  She was about to roll over and go back to sleep when she heard Javert cry out.  Wrapping herself in her house robe, she rushed down the stairs.  She quickly checked in the parlor, but she knew he wouldn’t be there.  This was Javert.  Unless he was unconscious, he did not tend to stay in one place for very long. 

She strode into the kitchen, confidently, careful not to rush to him or coddle him.  She knew it wouldn’t help his health or his frame of mind.  Her gaze rested on the letter in his hand. “Oh,” she breathed.  Drawing herself up to her full height, she masked the cold sensation of fear that rushed through her.  “I see you’ve decided to collect your debt,” as she said. 

 _‘I’ve come to collect a debt owed,’_ Raoul’s voice whispered in her head.  She had gone with him willingly, thinking that he had send Raoul to her as a way to take her away from the house.  It wasn’t until Raoul started talking about Toulon and his hatred for Javert that she realized that she was in harms way.  Even still, she expected to die there.  She had not anticipated Javert coming after her – and certainly not her papa. 

Javert looked upon her seriously.  “You owe me no debt,” he said, his voice gruff from exhaustion.  He put down the letter and winced as he tried to lift the tea kettle.

“Rest,” she whispered coming up beside him and trying to take the dish towel out of his hand. 

“No,” he snapped, pulling his hand towards his chest.

She furrowed her brow in concern.  Years of living with the man caused her to get used to his gruffness. Ever so gently, she pulled his wrist towards her.  Resting it in her own, she took the upmost care to unwrap his hand. 

He watched her, his vision swimming before him.  He had never trusted anyone’s healing ability to the extent that he trusted her.  Suddenly, he felt dizzy and his knees started to give way. 

“No!” she gasped, trying to catch him around the midsection.  Pressing her shoulder into his chest, she caused him to stumble into the counter, which he hit with an oof.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, placing her hand on his sweating forehead.  “You’re so warm,” she muttered as much to herself as to him.  Repositioning herself under his arm, she helped him walk to the table. 

He grew more nauseous with every step, but he knew she would care for him.  Food good or for ill, he always knew he could rely on her to take care of him when he took sick.  It was nice to know he could rely on her for care.  Just as he could rely on ValJean for love and support. 

But, those days had ended.  ValJean not only sent him away, but thought that he would hurt Cosette.  He would never do such a thing.   His head swam again and his coughed wetly.

“Shhh,” she soothed without meaning to.  As soon as she realized what she was doing, she looked at him panic-stricken.  “I apologize,” she said, getting up and pouring him a cup of tea. 

He wanted to ask her what she was apologizing for.  But, his words were having difficulty making it from his head to his mouth. 

She brought the tea back to the table and waited while he took a tentative sip. 

“Here, give me your hand,” she whispered after he put the cup back down shakily.

He placed his hand in hers without comment.  He watched as she unwrapped his hand.  “Oh Javert,” she said, when she saw the burn.  She got up and pulled out the burn balm from the cupboard.  Gently, she put it on his hand.  “What do I owe you, Javert?  You have my apologies and my love, of course.  But, for everything I’ve done, that cannot possibly be enough.”

“It is.  And…” he paused, wondering if he could ask her to visit him in Paris. 

“Anything.  Just… if you want me out of the house, please give me time to be properly courted.  Papa granted me a year for such an arrangement.  I promise, I’ll stay away from you.  You won’t even see me.”  Her voice started to shake. 

“Cosette,” he whispered, interrupting her.  “You’re hardly a child underfoot.  You are an important part of this family.”  His breath hitched and he took his hand back, quickly cupping his nose and mouth with both hands.  “KEH-HUSSHEW!   HetCHUMP!  Ugh.”  He gave a congested sniff before looking at her again.

“I’m sorry,” Cosette whispered.  “I shoudn’t be keeping you up.  Come on, let’s get you to bed,” she said, standing up.

“Cosette.”  His tone was stable and angry.

She turned her eyes to the floor.  “I owe you something.  I have to.  Please tell me what to do to make you stay.”

He sighed deeply.  While no longer a child, she truly did not understand that she could not answer for her father’s choices.  Suddenly, he knew what had to happen.  “You’re correct.  I need to go to bed.  And, I need  you to join me.”

Before she could think on her reaction, she struck him across the face.   She had done the same to Raoul when he suggested that she pay for Javert’s sins with her womanhood.  He had struck her back and she waited for Javert to do the same.

He looked at her, confused for a second before realization overcame him.  “You misunderstand.  I … just… “  He cupped his hands over his face again.  “HehTCHSHUMP!  HESSHH!”  He groaned and sniffed wetly. 

“Here,” she said, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocked. 

Barely having time to thank her, he snatched it out of her hand and sneezed heavily into it, resulting in a long gurgling blow.  He slumped backwards in the chair, feeling as though he was sinking through the floor in utter fatigue. 

“I apologize again,” she said, swallowing thickly.  “If… if owning me is part of my penance.”

He snapped to attention, looking at her with intense eyes.  “No! Never.  Never.”  He shook his head.  “Never,” he repeated.  “We need to talk to you father.”

“When you’ve rested,” she said, standing up and offering to assist him in doing the same.

“No, now,” he countered.  “I won’t be able to sleep thinking that you may slip out on us.”

“It would make you happy for me to be gone,” she breathed, tears filling her brilliant blue eyes.  She took him by the arm and bared some of his weight as he stood. 

“No. It would not.”  His tone broached no room for argument.

The look she gave him told him, in no uncertain terms, that she did not believe him.

But, he decided arguing with her was not going to get him anywhere.  It was obvious that she, like him, had made up her mind to leave.  Unlike him, she needed lead time to do it properly.  And, it was obvious that it shamed her.  The simple fact that she felt that she owed him a penance caused him deeper guilt than he could handle.  ValJean had to know what he said.  He had to know what happened. And the three of them had to work it out as a family.  If they did not, Javert was certain that the end was eminent.


	41. A Light in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert forces Cosette and ValJean to talk about the things that ValJean said to her.

It took them several minutes, due to Javert’s lack of balance and labored breathing, but they finally entered the master bedroom.  Cosette deposited Javert on the bed.

“I’ll be back,” she said, genuinely.  “Take the time to change.”

“No,” he denied her, with a shake of his head.  He worried that if she walked out the door, he may never see her again.  Guilt and fear nearly choked him.  He did not bring her back for her to disappear again. 

Turning to ValJean, he shook his shoulder gently. 

ValJean awoke with a jump.  He scrubbed his face with his hand and rubbed his eyes bruskly.  “Javert?  What is it?”  He looked between he and Cosette.  “What has happened?”  He leaned up on an elbow.

“Nothing,” Cosette answered.  “Nothing, papa.  I was just assisting Javert to bed.” 

ValJean released a slow breath.  “Thank you,” he said, with a smile.  He leaned back onto his pillows.  “If you don’t mind, Cosette… I could use some tea.  I’m sure Javert could, too.”  He sighed deeply and smiled a bit as he looked at her.

“Yes, papa,” she said, with a sad smile. 

“No,” Javert repeated with another shake of his head. 

She smiled kindly at him.  “Javert, I’m just getting your tea.  I’ll be back momentarily.”

“I’m timing you,” he barked.  “If you’ve not returned in two minutes, I’m coming down for you.”

She looked panic-stricken.  “Don’t brave the stairs.  I’ll be back,” she said, brushing her fingers across his burning hot forehead.  The man was so tired.  She hoped they would both fall asleep while she was out of the room.  

“She can get tea,” ValJean mused. 

“You fool!” Javert growled, listening carefully for her footfalls.  “If she doesn’t come back, be that on your head,” he snapped.

“It’s only tea, Javert,” ValJean replied, nonplused.  “it’s a simple pleasure that she can assist with.”

“It’s not the tea!” Javert insisted, as he rubbed his sinuses, which had begun to burn with an impending sneeze.  “Heh-SHUMP!  Shuh-SHUMP!”  Quickly he leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed a handkerchief. 

ValJean’s look softened.  “You didn’t have to go after her alone, you know.”

After a stuffy blow, Javert shook his head.  “You were in no shape to.  Besides, I had to fix things.”  Guilt lined the edge of his voice.

“I apologize for what I said to you, Javert.  I know you would never do anything to harm Cosette.  I was just livid.”

Javert shook his head and looked away.  “It’s fine.  No apology is necessary.”  He felt uncomfortable being in the bed beside ValJean.  He no longer felt that he deserved to be there.  

Jean lay his hand firmly on Javert’s back.  “It is.  I know I have not been myself.  I am sorry for lashing out at you.”

“I’m not the one you owe the apology to,” he said, turning towards Jean as Costte re-entered the room.

“Bless you, Javert.  Those sounded painful,” Cosette said, bringing him his tea, and placing a bowl of cool water on the dresser. 

He groaned as his head throbbed.  He knew that Cosette and her father needed to talk.  That she was going to slip away and perhaps he wouldn’t be so lucky next time.  A stuffy sneeze worked its way out and he grabbed his head.  He sighed wearily.  “Jean, you need to know some truths that have been kept from you.”

At his companions confused look he continued, “It is not I who you took your illness out on.  Nothing but a few comments about…”  He shook his head.  This was not about him.  “You told Cosette to leave.  You’ve told her that she is not welcome here and that she is beneath you.”

“Excuse me?” ValJean said sitting up in bed.

“Javert, how could you?” Cosette whispered, panic-stricken.  Turning to her father, she forced a smile.  “It’s nothing papa.”

“No… that can’t be correct,” ValJean said, with a bit of an edge to his voice.  “I would never say such things.”

The look on Javert’s face was murderous.   He would not allow Jean to live in a false world of his own making, especially at Cosette’s expense.  It didn’t matter how much he loved the man.  “You have.  You have said them in my presence.  And that doesn’t even include anything you’ve said that she hasn’t told me about.”  Nor did it include the gunshot mishap.

ValJean’s forehead creased as he thought hard into the past few weeks.  He remembered being angry, feeling powerless.  He remembered feeling humiliation at Cosette’s inability to properly care for him.  There was so little that was clear before Toulon – before Cosette’s surprise that he came to rescue her.

He looked at Cosette.  Her eyes were full of distrust.  Her hands shook as she placed a cool cloth on Javert’s forehead.  He had not seen her so uncomfortable since she was a child.  “What did I say?” he asked.  His hand came to rest on Javert’s leg.  He needed Javert next to him.  Javert always gave him strength that he didn’t know he possessed.

Cosette felt stuck.  She had never considered actually discussing her papa’s wishes with him – not beyond what had already been done.  She figured that she would accept Marius’ courtship and work behind the scenes with Javert as necessary.  “It’s nothing, papa.  Don’t concern yourself with such trivial matters.  You’re better and Javert is home.  That’s all I can ask for.”

“Answer my question, Cosette,” ValJean growled.  If Javert was saying that he had said these awful things, he would have to answer for them.  While he knew he would eventually beg God’s forgiveness, he wanted Cosette’s first. 

She opened her mouth and then closed it, trying to consider how to phrase her answer in a way that would hurt him the least.  “You claimed doubts of my intelligence.  Um… you… you let me know that I’m not as important to you as – as Javert.  And – and I don’t blame you for that.  You’re right, of course.  As you stated, I’m far too old to be living here without a courtship.  That’s why, um, I’ve accepted Marius’ offer.  As per protocol, it should take about seven months before I’m out of your house.”

ValJean held up his hand and shook his head as though he may have misheard something.  “Hold up just for a moment,” he said, as he tried to process.  “Cosette, you have to know that I love you just as much as Javert.  And, I’ve loved you longer.”

“Papa,” she closed her eyes to steal herself against the lies designed to protect her from the truth.  “It’s all right.  I – I should have known that even your kindness had limits.”

Javert’s breath became caught in his chest.  He sniffled from more than just congestion.  Things shouldn’t be this way.  He had no idea that Cosette was taking such an emotional attack during the prior weeks.  He felt as though guilt was going to swallow him whole.  “Cosette, you should have told me,” he stated as calmly as he could.  She had of course, he realized.  She had told him pieces.  The idea that ValJean didn’t love her anymore.  Her sudden interest in Marius.  It all made sense.  It broke his heart.

ValJean’s heart felt cold.  His arms were frozen in place as though ice was running through his veins.  Cosette thought he was pushing her out of the house… because he loved her less than he let on.  His hand flew to his mouth as he wracked his brain trying to figure out what he had said to cause her such heartache.  “Cosette, I don’t love you any less.  And, I-.”   His voice broke.  “Don’t marry just to leave this house.  You’re welcomed here.”

The lies hurt her deeply – perhaps even deeper than the initial words against her.  “Papa, it’s all right,” she assured him.

“No, Cosette,” he snapped.  “It is not all right.”

A cold, clammy hand wrapped around hers.  She looked down and saw Javert looking at her with soft, pleading eyes.  He was more unguarded than she had ever seen him before.  Crouching down next to the bed, she stroked his arm softly with her other hand.  “What is it?” she asked, gently, speaking to the unguarded eyes more than the great Inspector Javert.

“You don’t have to marry simply to leave here.  Neither your father or I ever meant to push you out.”

She smiled at him softly, patting him on the shoulder and placing a kiss on his sweat soaked temple as she got up.  “I do really like Marius.  I would like to love him.  I want to be courted – I just didn’t know how to bring it up to you two.  We’ll just say that this solidified it,” she assured both men.

ValJean turned to Javert.  “Marius.  Do we know him?”

“Heh-SHUMP!”  Javert sneezed into a well time handkerchief.

Both of the others blessed him and he nodded at them as he blew his nose stuffily.  “Pontmercy… you- you’ve met him.  HesssHUMP!! Heh-TESSH!”  He shook as a chill made its way through his body. 

The both blessed him again.  “Come Javert.  You must rest,” Cosette insisted. 

“I am,” he replied evenly.  He sighed deeply.  “Tell him the rest.”

She thought about the gun incident.  Some part of her wanted to tell her papa what had really happened.  On the other hand, she didn’t want him to know anything about it.  He had obviously already processed through the anger.  There was no reason to make either of them go through that again.

“Um, like I said, you doubted my intelligence and brought up my beginnings.”

Javert turned to ValJean.  “You called her stupid and a street rat more than once.”

ValJean turned panicked, pleading eyes to Cosette.  “Please say that’s not true,” he begged in a whisper.

“It’s true.  The past few days, street rat has been the term of endearment of choice,” she admitted.

Ice flowed through his veins and his heart skipped a beat.  “Cosette, none of it is true.  It was the fever talking.  I swear.  I don’t mean any of it.”

“It’s all right if you do think so, papa,” she said, coming to his side of the bed.  She sat down next to him and gently pet his shoulder. 

“No,” he said, grabbing her hands.  “No, it’s not.  You are not a stree- a street…” He removed one of his hands and cupped it over his nose and mouth.  “Har-ESSH!  ESHH!  Hep-ESSHH!”  He panted a bit and sniffed strongly before turning back to her. 

“Papa, my beginnings are humble.  We all know that,” she reasoned.

“All of our beginnings were humble,” Javert interjected.  “You are no more a streetrat than I am.”

She smiled a bit.  “Thank you, Javert.”

“Cosette, I apologize for everything,  Please tell me what else I did.  Anything else.  I will make it up to you, I swear,” ValJean promised.

She kissed him gently on the cheek.  “You owe me nothing,” she assured him.  “I love you.” 

He pulled her close to him, hugging her tightly.  “I love you, Cosette.  Please know that.  _Know_ that.  Don’t carry any of this with you.  Let me know so I can help you… so I can dispel the pain.”  How he had gotten blessed with such a beautiful and forgiving daughter was more than he could comprehend.   Tears leaked from his eyes as he realized how close he had come to losing her.

She felt his stomach quiver against her.  “Shhh,” she soothed him. 

“Cosette, I apologize,” he gasped through his tears. 

“Papa, it’s all right.  I’m right here.”  Her pain was nothing in comparison to his.  He worked so hard to keep her provided for and safe.  He didn’t deserve to be taken to task like this.

ValJean pulled away from her.  “No.  It’s not.  Now tell me,” he insisted.

Cosette searched his face.  His red rimmed eyes and flushed face from fever and tears broke her heart.  “Um,  you said you didn’t want me around you and that I’m annoying.  Little things people say when they’re sick.”

He nodded.  He still felt like she was withholding from him.  “You would tell me if there was more?”

A snore interrupted their conversation.  Both turned to see Javert, snoring comfortably into his pillow.

They shared a look of contentment.  “Rest with him.  We’ll talk later,” Cosette said, giving her papa a kiss on the cheek. 

She tucked her papa in and turned down the lantern. 

“I love you, Cosette,” he said, thoroughly meaning it.  He hoped she believed him, although he would understand if she did not.

“I love you too, papa,” she assured him with a smile.

 

 


	42. Weeds in the Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert comes clean to ValJean about the gun incident.

A gunshot made Javert’s eyes shoot open.  He looked around the bedroom.  The sun had set and moonlight streamed in the windows.  Jean was not there.  “Jean?  Cosette?” he called out, as his hand moved towards his bedside table.  He did not hear a reply. 

He opened the drawer and went to pull out his pistol.  His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked around the drawer and on the floor.  Where had his pistol gone?  A wet sneeze worked its way out, “HeeSSHIT”  He grabbed his head as it pounded in protest.  A husky cough exploded out of him and made him feel as though his head was going to explode.  Suddenly, he smelled it – gunpowder. 

“Jean?” he called out again.  Something had gone terribly awry.  There should not have been a gun shot in the house.  He had to know what was going on.

He pushed his legs off the side of the bed and shifted to push himself up.  His hand fell on his gun and he jumped.  How did it get into the bed?  He turned suddenly and noticed the bullet splatter on the wall opposite Jean’s side of the bed.  He blinked rapidly.  Had his gun gone off?  How was that possible?

He pushed himself up and stumbled around to the other side of the bed.  He screamed in horror and dropped to his knees as he saw Cosette, covered in blood, crumbled at the side.  “No, no, no,” he whispered.  “Cosette!” he screamed.  He turned her over; her dress was soaked through with blood.  It covered her up to her neck and matted the parts of her hair that would have naturally tumbled over her shoulders. 

“Cosette!” Javert screamed, sitting straight up in bed.  He looked around.  It was the middle of the day and he felt the sleeping weight of Jean beside him.  He felt a slow, heavy arm encircle him.  “You know, there was a time when you called for me after your nightmares,” Jean teased.  There was no malice in his voice, only a quiet amused.

“I didn’t almost kill you,” Javert admitted, quivering as he curled himself inside Jean’s strong embrace. 

Jean shushed him and pressed a kiss to his fevered forehead. “You didn’t almost kill Cosette either.  It was only a dream.  She’s fine.”

“Where is she?” Javert asked, pulling away slightly.  “Are you certain she’s all right?”  His voice was still panicked.  It wasn’t like her not to come when he called.  Even in the worst of the past month, she always came when he called.

“Likely she went outside for stroll.  It’s been a hard month on her,” Jean whispered.  After a pause he added, “I want to thank you for taking such good care of her – for being her confidant when I could not.”

“It was nothing.  She is quite self sufficient.”

“It was something.  If I – If I was telling her these horrible things, I’m glad she knew she could go to you.”   He hugged Javert a little closer, trying to stay the man’s shivering.

Guilt was likely to eat Javert whole.  He was taking credit for nearly killing her.  He wondered what it would be like to be in Cosette’s place – to be abused by the only true father she had ever known and to be nearly killed by the person who was supposed to be the next best thing.  She had handled it all… taken it in stride and continued to work to make the two of them happy.  They both owed her a debt.

“I nearly killed her,” Javert admitted again.

“No,” Jean said.  “It was only a dream – truly.  You didn’t hurt her.  You were there for her.  You risked your life to go get her.  She owes you a debt.”

“No!” Javert pushed away from Jean. “No, she owes me nothing.  I love her as a daughter.  Like the daughter I was always too scared to commit to.  She committed to me first.  To us… you have done a commendable job as her father.”  Two stuffy sneezes squeaked out, barely caught in his hands.

Something was wrong.  Javert was never so free with his emotions.  Not unless he felt that something was owed by him.  Jean nodded.  “Then love her.  Be opened to this Marius and to her future happiness.  It’s what a good father does.”

Javert nodded.  “I will, of course.  Even though I don’t much care for the man.”  He paused, his heart skipping a beat as he realized what he had said.

Jean pushed himself up against his pillows.  “Why?  What’s wrong with him?”

Javert shook his head, dizzying himself in the process.  “He’s a good boy, from a good family. He’ll be able to provide well for her.  But, he’s part of the new revolutionary movement.  Cosette has already agreed to work with me to make certain that no more deaths happen than are necessary.”

Jean thought for a moment and then responded.  “That’s unfair of you, you know.  To make her choose between loyalty to her husband and loyalty to her father.  That could wind up putting her in some serious moral dilemmas.  You’d best consider the day that she puts Marius before you – will you still love her?  Or will you see it as a betrayal and shut her out?  And, no matter what your answer – does she know it?”

Javert thought for a moment.  He honestly had not considered how a long term loyalty divide would affect her.  She had been so willing to assist him – so willing to stand by his side, secretly.  Jean was correct, however.  There would come a time when – God willing – she would love her husband and feel the need to stand behind him.  At that time, would she be able to face Javert?  Or would she feel caught in the middle?  And, what affect would that have on her?  “You’re correct of course.  I will talk to her about it.  I did not mean to put her in such a situation.”

Jean leaned forward and captured Javerts lips in a kiss.  His dry lips were too warm, reminding Jean of Javert’s weakened health.  He leaned his forehead against that of the other man.  “You are a good man, Javert.  And I am honored to have you by my side.”

“I don’t belong here,” Javert whispered, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Jean was aghast.  “Why?  I know I said many things while ill, but I beg of you to not take them to heart.  Please Javert, don’t do this to yourself.”

“Because I nearly shot your daughter,” Javert repeated.  He couldn’t live with the fact that he had seen Jean nearly throw Cosette out of his house because of a mistake on Javert’s part.  He knew that the dreams would only get worse until Jean knew the truth.  Somehow, he already had Cosette’s forgiveness.  Now he needed Jeans.

“Javert, it was a dream.  Let it go,” Jean said, trying to pull the other man back into his arms.

“No… my dream was taken off of a real situation,” Javert said, drawing his chin up to look Jean in the eye.  “Do you recall when Cosette nearly killed me?”  He hated putting it like that – it could not be more misleading.

Jean’s eyes darkened.  “I do.  I will teach her how to be safe around guns.  It is a lesson I did not think she needed to – “

“Stop,” Javert cut him off.  He took a deep breath.  “Cosette did not accidently set the gun off.  I did.”

Silence filled the room as both men contemplated the statement.  Jean looked at Javert seriously, as he tried to puzzle out this apparent truth.  Javert swallowed thickly as he contemplated where he would go when Jean threw him out. 

“Explain,” Jean insisted.  He needed all of the facts.  Cosette had admitted to nearly killing Javert.  She had faced his wrath for it and – he realized – his residual anger afterwards.  Why would she do such a thing?

Javert took a deep breath.  “I don’t… I don’t… HessSHUMP!”  He coughed congestedly.  After a weary sigh he continued.  “I don’t know exactly what happened.  I know Cosette came in the room… and I sneezed and dropped the gun, causing it to go off when it hit the bed. “  He shivered at the memory.  “I nearly killed her.  Not the other way around.  Your anger was misplaced.  But, she took it – faced it… because… because she already felt that she had fallen out of your favor.  She wanted to make certain we were happy together.” 

Jean could not completely process the story he had just heard.  “And you’re only stepping up now because?” he accused.

“She asked me not to tell.  She said that she would take –“

“And you let her?” Jean all but yelled.  “You let her take my wrath?  Why?  Because you were afraid to face me?”

In hindsight it didn’t make sense.  He should have protected her – kept her safe from the older, stronger man.  She had been without their protection for far too long.  She had handled it well – but she shouldn’t have had to.  “It doesn’t make sense now,” he admitted.

“Damn right it doesn’t make sense now.”  He got up from bed and got himself dressed into his day clothes.  “I need to go for a walk.  I’ll talk to you later,” he spat, not looking at Javert.

Javert felt hot tears roll down his cheeks.  He deserved this wrath.  He deserved all of it.  He didn’t deserve his forgiveness. He didn’t deserve Cosette’s loyalty.  None of his current situation made sense to him.  Unable to do much else, he cried himself to sleep.


	43. Growing Towards the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air gets cleared on many matters and Javert tells Cosette what he wants from her.

ValJean walked outside.  He inhaled a deep breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill his senses.  He coughed a bit, feeling the tightness in his chest release.  He couldn’t remember the last time that his head felt so clear, or his body so pain free.  He scanned the grounds, looking for the beautiful blonde hair of his daughter.  He knew her locks would be wild in the wind, as she leaned against – or rather on a branch of one of the lower trees, likely reading a book or other such thing.  He loved that he could provide her with such a lifestyle that she had those freedoms. 

He recalled a time in another life when he had been the sole provider for his sister and her ill child.  They had often laughed at the idleness of the rich.  He never realized how very similar the lives actually were.  Unless there was old money, the rich worked just as hard, but in different jobs.  And, unlike with the poor reputation and perception was everything. 

He sighed heavily.  How could something that he had done over the past few weeks or, moreso, something that he had said changed the perceptions of the two people he held most dear to his heart.  He thought about what he had been told.  Could he ever have been so evil and heartless to Cosette?  Not in his right mind, he knew.  But, it was apparent that the fever had put him quite out of his mind. 

And Javert… he knew he was lucky that the man had decided to stay.  He wasn’t certain what he had done to garner such loyalty.  However, he had no illusions to how fragile their relationship likely was.  Nor was he under any illusions about Javert’s illness being the only thing that would keep him in the house if he felt so poorly about his standing in it.

He coughed again, his chest pulling with tightness.  With heavy, labored steps, he started to look for Cosette.  Their land was not so big that she could be gone for hours and not be within sight. But, he knew that when she was upset, she would often look to hide until she had worked out the situation to her liking, in her own head.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized that she was not on the grounds.  Javert’s time limit on her getting the tea rang in his mind.  Did she leave?  Where would she go?  The world was not safe for a lady to be traveling alone. 

“Cosette!” he called out, his voice echoing in the valley.  He coughed again and continued to look for her.

He found her on a low hanging branch of the willow tree.  Her eyes were closed and her cheeks too red for his liking.  Quietly, he approached the tree, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he noticed her unlabored breaths.  She was not ill.  These were not fever stained cheeks.  His heart fell a bit when he realized that the redness was likely due to tears shed on her own.  But, if she was well, he could work to fix the rest.

“Cosette,” he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

He expected her to rouse softly.  He expected her to look at him with those blue eyes that seemed to go on for eternity.  He expected her to greet him warmly and gently place her hand over his as she took a few moments to acclimate to being awake.  What he did not expect was for her to shriek in alarm and nearly roll off the branch. 

He jumped back, alarmed.  This was not a typical response.  ‘ _What could have happened to … oh,’_ he thought, as he realized that while she was acting like the person she had always been, her recent events with Raoul affected her deeper than she was letting on.

“Papa, you surprised me,” she said with a nervous laugh, as she used the branch to pull herself up off the ground.

He gazed at her, a soft smile on his lips.  He was amazed at how much control of her emotions and thoughts she had.  While not typical of a lady of her stature, the trait was typical of he and Javert.  She had learned well from them, perhaps too well.  They would have to work together to… infiltrate… her mind in order to help her heal.  This was not the work for Monsieur ValJean or even Monsieur le Mer.  This was work for the great and illustrious Inspector Javert.   Luckily, he knew the man.

He bent his arm and leaned against the trunk of the tree as she got herself settled.  After a moment of companionable silence passed between them, he sighed deeply.  “Cosette, I owe you a world of thanks and a sincere apology.”

Her eyes squinted as she looked him over.  “No, you owe me nothing,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. 

He crouched down next to her, groaning as his knees complained about the movement. 

She looked at him, her eyes shining with sympathy.  It irritated him. “You take on too much,” he grumbled, his eyes shifting out towards the mountains.  He sighed as her felt her hand on his cheek, gently caressing the beard which had grown over the past few weeks.  He bowed his head into her hand.  “Javert told me what really happened,” he blurted out.

“We spoke about what really happened, papa.  Although I think you could have lived without those inconvenient truths,”  she went to pull her hand away from his face, but he clasped it in his. 

“I could not.  You would have… would have changed.  And, I wouldn’t have known why.  You must tell me when you feel adversely from the things that have transpired.  If not me, please tell Javert.”

“There’s nothing to tell.  Nothing that you two should worry about.”

“We’re going to worry about it anyway,” Javert said, coming up behind the two.  He had woken with a start when ValJean called for Cosette.  As quickly as he was able, he had dressed properly in his uniform, uncertain what sort of need ValJean would have of him – if any.  When he had heard Cosette scream, his heart skipped a beat and he moved as quickly as his elevated fever would allow. 

“While I appreciate your concern, you don’t need to concern yourselves.  I really am completely recovered from my experiences.”  She felt trapped.  She knew that lying was a sin, but she couldn’t bear to concern them.  Her papa was barely recovered, and Javert was not at all. 

As if to accentuate her point, he sneezed heavily. 

“You need to be inside,” Cosette said, swinging her legs off the branch. 

“I do not,” Javert stated with his typical assertiveness.  He was tired of being weak, whiny, and needy.  He did not like that he was capable of such things.  While he was willing to allow himself to believe that the other two’s seemingly infinite ability for forgiveness had rubbed off on him, he was not willing to be weak in front of them again.  Running away would be cowardice, he told himself.  He needed to face his situation with the same courage and resilience that Cosette was. 

She smiled.  It did her heart good to see Javert’s strength showing through again.  She had missed his quiet brooding.  She understood what he was hiding now; it made her respect him more.  “All right then,” she said.  Turning back to her papa she added, “I don’t wish to talk about them.”

Javert scrubbed a hand over his face.  Her last statement made it clear that she was far from recovered.  He would have to speak to her alone, without her father watching.

“I apologize for accusing you of nearly killing Javert,” ValJean blurted out. 

Cold eyes turned to Javert.  “It’s all right,” she responded.  “It was the story I wanted you to believe.”

“But, why?” ValJean asked, his voice full of confusion. 

She paused.  Everything felt so silly now.  All she wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been prior to her papa getting ill – prior to her losing her temper.  “Because,” she looked at Javert.  Would he dispel future lies?  Could she really tell her papa what she had been thinking? Should she?

“Because she was under the mistaken impression that you only loved me.  And, she believed that as long as you loved one of us it would be enough to make you happy. “  He paused, giving Cosette a fleeting glance.  “Apparently, you had already begun to tell her that you wanted her out of the house – and I know for a fact that you told her that after the … mishap.”

ValJean sighed sadly, closing his eyes as he did so.  In an instant, he heard his own angry, yet terribly weak voice, _“To think you could support me as though you were Javert… the most important person in my life… I don’t care where you go…”_   The damage had been done, he realized.  Cosette, the simple and amazingly angelic woman that she was would forgive him anything.  But, she would not forget.  She would harbor it inside, taking it as personal attacks every time she thought of it, until she finally was able to disappear from his life forever.  No. He had to stop it.  But, how?

“I would never stop you from leaving if you truly wanted to go –a venture through Europe with your friends, a courtship, to Paris for the day.  But, I implore you not to simply go out into the world.  It is not safe for such things.”

Cosette nodded, unable to look at either man. 

Javert sneezed again, groaning as he braced himself for a moment against the tree. 

Caring blue eyes took in the sight of Javert.  “And it is incredibly obvious that I cannot take care of myself,” she whispered sadly.

“No!” ValJean snapped, groaning as he crouched down to make eye contact with her.  “What he did to you-.”

“I am to blame,” Javert stated.

“No!” she snapped.  “No, you are not.  I went with him.  I followed him off the premises.  You… “ she sighed.  “You were…,”  her voice broke, “it’s not your fault,” she replied simply.

“Excuse me?” Javert snapped.  “Repeat that last part,” he demanded, as though he was speaking to a man in his commission.

“Cosette, why would you leave the premises with him?” ValJean asked, his voice panic-stricken, but more calm than that of Javert.

_The moon was so bright that its light made it seem like dawn instead of midnight.  Cosette had gone outside to bid farewell to Raoul.  Her mind was filled with thoughts of what Javert would need for the ride home.  She wished there was a way for them to bottle water like the men used flasks to bottle whiskey._

She shook her head.  The reason seemed so foolish now.  She realized she had made the wrong choice quickly, but not quick enough.

“Jean, give us a moment please,” Javert whispered, his anger thinly veiled.   

ValJean wanted to deny the request.  It was seldom that he saw Javert so angry.  Some part of him was fearful for Cosette.  But, to deny him the request would be a statement of distrust and he was already working to undo damage on that front.  “I won’t be far,” he promised, as he walked away.

Cosette and Javert were quiet for a long while.  The minutes ticked past as Cosette tried to figure out how to make what she had done make sense.

“Just tell me,” Javert demanded.

She looked at him and pat beside her, offering him a chance to sit down.  Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the man was dead on his feet.

“No,” he grunted with a shake of his head.  He came to stand in front of her.  Facing towards the hills, he stood at attention.  He knew he was in a position of authority, both in standing and in relationship.  He did not want her to feel attacked, but he was barely able to hold himself together.

She watched as Javert, ill and drawn seemed to prepare himself for bad news.  She wished she could give him better news – or lie.  But, realistically, she could not.  Lying would undo this family and she couldn’t cause the men she loved any more harm.

“Do you want to know why I went with him?” she asked, her sweet voice, deepening with allure. 

He elevated his chin, bracing himself for whatever truth she held for him.  His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.  He had to maintain control.  Lashing out at her could destroy their relationship forever.

 _I’ve come to collect a debt._  Raoul’s voice echoed in her head.   “I thought you had sent him to take me away.”  Her voice shook when she said ‘away’.  She sniffled and continued.  “He said he had come to collect a debt.  You had mentioned that you had seen the letter… so, I went with him.”

Eyes still closed, he bowed his head forward.  “I told you in the fiacre that I had not seen the letter,” his whispered forcefully.

“I realized quickly that you would not have sent such a creature.  He made a proposition I had to refuse.  When he…”  She wondered if she should tell him the whole story.  She decided it was likely to come out in time anyway.  “When he demanded my womanhood, I slapped him.  He slapped me back.  I knew… I knew he wasn’t sent by you.  But, he held me in place and he said that if I screamed he would drown me like a kitten.”

Head still bowed, he shook with rage – at Cosette, at Raoul, at himself.  That she would think that he would call on someone to take her away made him nauseous.  Her willingness to do whatever it took to make him happy was actually a testament of her loyalty to him and her love of both he and her father.   Raoul was lucky he was already dead.  Were he not, Javert would devote the rest of his life to hunting him down and killing him.  The utter detestation that he felt for himself was vengeful.  Had he read that stupid letter, he would have already told her that she didn’t owe him anything.  She wouldn’t have believed Raoul.  He wouldn’t have been accused of hurting her or rode off alone.  He had sparked this.  And, she had suffered for it.

“I know what you can do for me,” he whispered, looking up.  His voice was harsh and guttural, as though the thoughts had not yet processed all the way.

She stiffened.  “Anything.”

“Pretend,” he paused.  Imagination was not something that he had ever had time for.  He often mocked her when she was small for fanciful imaginary scenarios.   But, now, he knew that he needed to draw on them.  “Pretend that my outburst, the letter, the things your father said, all of it… pretend it never happened.  Treat us – treat him – like nothing ever went awry.”

She looked panicked.  She had no idea how to do such a thing.  Her papa’s words had been so harsh that they had shaken her to her very core.  

“Please, Cosette,” he asked his voice getting stronger even a beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.  “For me.”

She paused, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.  “For you, anything.”


	44. A Flower in the Weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert goes back to work, perhaps prematurely.
> 
> Cosette sees Marius and her papa is none-too-pleased. 
> 
> More Cosette drama.

Dark circles underlined Javert’s heavy eyes as though he had been marked with charcoal.  The black eye, which he had sustained at the hands of Raoul had exploded in a flower of purple and green and spread between his temple and cheekbone.  The flu that had begun only days before was already becoming suppressable as he learned to walk through the dizziness, stare coldly through the haze, and suppress any symptoms as they tried to make themselves known.  Clad in his uniform, he was read for a true days work.  He was appalled that he had taken so many days off of work and he was certain that his superiors were equally as appalled.  He would be lucky to retain his post and knew that he would have to work hard to do so.

“Papa, are you ready?” Cosette called up the stairs, as she brushed out the wrinkles in Javert’s cloak.  She couldn’t believe how poorly the man looked and yet was still functional.  She had always known that his accepting of her love and support was a kindess, rather than something that he needed.  She had vowed to herself that she would work hard not to show him so much care and concern going forward.  He needed to be the strong masculine role in the house – followed by the masculinity of her papa. She was only the woman of the house.  Her job was to be silently supportive.  She had never been good at a woman’s role, but after the previous month, she would do her best.

She looked at her papa, concerned, as he walked down the stairs with a cane.  “What?” she started, but silenced herself when Javert stepped in front of her. 

“You look daper,” he said, his voice gruff and strained. 

“That is the goal, of course,” her papa responded, looking quite comfortable in his suit. 

Both men put on their hats and were careful to make certain that the door was locked when they left.

“I am so excited to spend a day in Paris,” Cosette said, as her papa started to drive the coach.

“It has been far too long,” ValJean agreed, feeling his chest tighten in the fresh air.  He would have preferred Javert sat beside him, but knew that it was best that the man rested as much as he could.  He would need to project his normal cold demeanor to the other officers and there was no way for him to maintain such a façade for an entire day without proper rest.

“So what will we do today, papa?” Cosette asked.  She stole a look to Javert who seemed to be shivering beneath his cloak.  With a shaking hand, he stifled two thick sneezes into a well timed handkerchief and groaned.

ValJean sucked in a breath and held it for a moment, waiting for Javert to ask to be brought home.  But, of course he would not.  He needed to put in a showing at work.  A full twelve hours at least.  And, whether Cosette was up for it or not, ValJean was insistent on staying in Paris for the entire time.  Some things were simply more important than others.  And, being there for Javert was at the top of his list.

“Well I know you need a few new dresses and I could use a new suit or two.  We also need to go to the market and the butcher.  Perhaps we will go by skid-row and give some charity.  Of course lunch and a trip to the mercantile,” he answered, filling the day with as many innocuous errands as they could run. 

She nodded, trying to smile at her papa.  The wind was cold and biting.  Yet, he still had a full day planned for them.  Although she was happy to be going out with her family – like a family – she still loathed being out that long.  By the time they headed for home, it would be dark and even more cold.  She hoped the two of them were up for it, because she would be at her wits end.

Most of the day went well.  They were able to drop Javert off at the station of police without anyone recognizing her.  They bought her a few more casual dresses to be courted in and a new suit for ValJean.  However, when they went for lunch, there was a bit of a scuffle in front of General LeMarque’s house. 

“Come Cosette,” ValJean said, trying to pull her away. 

But, she heard a voice in the crowd, one that made her heart flutter and the hair on her arms stand on end.  “Wait, papa,” she said, heading into the crowd.

“Marius!” she called to him.  He was standing in front of the group with three others that she had seen at different parties in the past year.  They were all from well off families – mostly old money.  She was so excited by how the crowd was listening to him, was following him, that she didn’t realize that she had lost her papa in the crowd.

He smiled at her, kneeling down to kiss her on the cheek.  “The people are listening to us,” he told her.  “Come on up.”  He looked up and yelled to that General LeMarque should be freed.  The crowd seemed to agree and Cosette’s heart sunk.

“No,” she said, stepping away. “Marius we have to talk.  You have to come-.”  Her voice was quickly drowned out by the crowd.

“Marius!” she called to him, as her papa came up behind her. 

“Cosette we have to go,” he said, tugging her away. 

“Yes, of course papa,” she started.  As she turned she saw Javert, mounted on horseback with his officers flanking him.

“Marius!” she called to the man she was falling in love with.  She knew that he had to get off the podium.  She had to tell him not to push this point.

“Cosette, no!” ValJean barked as though she was a child to be chastised.

She startled and backed up towards him.  “Yes, papa,” she said, her eyes falling to the ground.  She had not meant to upset the man, and yet that was exactly what she appeared to have done.

She looked at Javert.  His pallor showed how ill he was feeling, with the circles under his eyes taking on a sickly green and yellow hue.  He made eye contact with her, his eyes betraying the disappointment that he felt to see her there.

“Come on, Cosette,” ValJean said, pulling her away.  “What were you doing?” he snapped as soon as they had gotten far enough away from the crowd.

“I was trying to tell Marius to stop.  That,” she stopped.  She wasn’t supposed to tell her papa what Javert wanted of her.  “That there are more important things,” she tried to cover.

“You’re joining the revolution then?  My daughter?” The tone of his voice said that he forbade it, even without her saying it.  “You would stand against Javert.  Against me?”

“No of course not, papa,” she said. 

“Is that the boy you want to court you?”  When she didn’t respond, he got angry.  He grabbed her arm and shook it harder than he had intended, “Is he?” he yelled.

She gasped in pain and looked at him with hurt shining in her eyes.  “Yes, papa.  But, he’s from a good family.  He just wants to help.”

“He will not pull you into this Revolution.  You don’t remember the last.  You don’t know what he’s going to – what he’s going to stand against.  And I will not permit you to stand against Javert that way.”

“I won’t stand against Javert.  I wasn’t trying to.  I was trying to stand with him – to stop Marius… to explain…”

“I don’t want to hear any more about this,” he snapped, turning away from her.  “You will not join this revolution.”

“You’re right I won’t,” she agreed.  While she didn’t like that people were suffering, she didn’t want a revolution either.  People died that way.  She wouldn’t stand against Javert.  But, she didn’t want to turn her back on Marius either.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he whispered harshly.  He was concerned about Javert.  The man seemed to be able to keep control of the situation, but he also looked positively ill.  He wished he could come up with an excuse – any excuse – to make Javert come home early.  Even if he had to send Cosette away temporarily, for he saw the look of betrayal on Javert’s face.  He would fix things between the two of them, but for now he had to make certain that Javert was safe.

“Mademoiselle Cosette?” a voice called to them.

Cosette stood immediately and curtsied deeply.  “Captain Vidocq,” she greeted seriously.  She had met him at the gala and both Javert and Raoul let her know how serious and respected he was.  She hoped that he didn’t think that she was part of the rabble as well.  She hoped he thought of her in a better light than her papa obviously did.

“Might I have a word?” he asked, standing off to the side.

She nodded and followed him.  “How can I help you, Captain?” she asked.

“You were caring for Inspector Javert, yes?”

She nodded with a small noise in the affirmative.

“Well he is not well enough to return to work.  Rest assured that his place as Inspector belongs to him alone.  I am relieving him from duty for the rest of the week.  Should I see him again in Paris before his night shift Monday, I will relieve him of duty indefinitely.  Is that clear?” he threatened.

“Yes, Captain,” she replied.

“I expect better from a woman of your stature.  If you are to care for him, then you do so.  It is not as though he is still a bachelor.  He will not be permitted to still act like one. “

Cosette felt her heart drop.  It seemed she really could do nothing correctly.  “Yes, Captain.”

“Make no mistake, I understand your place in his life.  If I could relieve you of duty from his life, I would do so.  But, seeing as you are Monsieur ValJean’s daughter, well… you should be courted soon, yes?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then I look forward to the day.  Now, you will take him home when he has returned from the scuffle.”

She nodded and curtsied to him as he left.  She swallowed hard.  

“Cosette, what was that about?” ValJean asked, his voice showing the concern he felt.  He had watched as his daughter started in the conversation confidently and slowly deflated.

“Nothing.  Javert is being relieved of duty to continue to recover. He’s expected back to his regular shift on Monday.”  She rubbed her arm where her father had shook her.  The look of betrayal in Javert’s eyes haunted her.  Captain Vidocq’s words hurt her deeply.  Not for the first time, she wished she had died in Toulon. 

“Good.  We will wait for him to return and bring him back home.”  He took in the sight before him.  Cosette was sad enough to show it – to lose her composure in public.  “What is it?” he asked, gently, turning her towards him.

Searching blue eyes made contact with his serious brown ones.  “Nothing, papa,” she whispered, forcing a smile.

He blinked at her obvious lie.  “Is it Raoul?” he asked, wondering if she was caught in a flashback.  He had flashbacks of Toulon for years.  He could only imagine what she was going through.  He heard the surprise in her voice when she realized he had come for her and realization dawned on him that she had not expected him to.

“No,” she said, smiling more naturally.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, leading her back towards the carriage.

“You can’t.  Sleeve’s too tight,” she answered easily.  “You didn’t hurt me, papa.  Don’t worry,” she lied, far too easily.

He nodded.  He hadn’t meant to shake her like that.  He was just so frustrated with the premise that she was standing against he and Javert with some kids who didn’t know what they were getting into.  “Tell me about Marius,” he directed.

Against her better judgment, she spoke lovingly of the man until Javert joined them and the family went home.


	45. Flower in the Weeds II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette starts giving into her depression. 
> 
> Javert tries to help, but his fever gets in the way.

Much to her delight, both her papa and Javert retired as soon as they arrived home.  After they had settled in their bedroom, Cosette crept down the stairs and put the bruise balm on her upper arm.  Her papa’s handprint was evident and tears filled her eyes every time she looked at it.

He had not meant to hurt her, she knew.  He would be horrified to know that he had left a mark.  But, she was horrified that he thought she would stand against he and Javert.  Had she not proven her loyalties?  She supposed not.  At least not in his eyes. 

She sat at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands, covering her eyes as tears started to fall.  She was horribly confused about why they had come after her if they did not love her – if they did not want her.  If he doubted her loyalty and love so much, why did he rescue her?  None of it had made sense. 

Small gasps and sobs escaped from her as she tried to process all of the changes in the past month.  She knew she would have been able to handle her papa –especially after they had spent hours speaking of Marius.  She loved the smile on her papa’s lips, his laughter – all of it.  She knew that she could sway him to understanding.  She knew that Javert already supported her relationship with Marius.  But, it wasn’t about Marius, was it?

 _If I could relieve you of duty from his life, I would do so._  

The Captain’s perception of her.  The fact that he wanted her out of Javert’s life.  The idea that if she didn’t do well enough, Javert would lose his position…

More sobs escaped as she cried for some time.  She couldn’t tell how long it had been, but she knew she was careful to keep her sobs quiet.

“What is it, Cosette?” Javert’s voice asked.

But, apparently not quiet enough.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice stuffy with unshed tears.  “It’s nothing, Javert.  Truly.  Go to bed.  You need your rest.”  She looked up at him, fearful of seeing the look of betrayal again.  But, it wasn’t there: just a soft look of concern, as he stood a few feet away from her.

“Cosette,” he whispered, moving slowly towards her as though she was a wounded animal.  “You know you can tell me anything.  I understand what it is to be unwanted.”  As soon as he spoke the words, he regretted them.

Her face crumpled and she turned away from him. 

He sneezed violently and her head snapped up again.  She looked at him, taking him in.  He was so pale, except for his fever stained cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes.  He was clad in only his shift and house shoes, revealing the scars on his legs.

“I woke you.  I’m sorry,” she stated.  “Come on Javert.  Let’s get you back to bed.”

After a short gasp, he sneezed again, this time so violently he folded in half. 

She was on her feet in an instant.  “Shhh,” she said, coming around to his side, and working to help support his weight.

“Thank you for coming after me,” she whispered.  “You didn’t have to, you know.  I would have… have understood.”  Tears were threatening to fall again. 

“No, Cosette,” he started, but she kept speaking.

“Papa’s more accepting of Marius.  And… and I won’t stand against the two of you.  No matter what.  So, you … I won’t…” Her words failed her as she envisioned the disappointed look in his eyes again. 

“Cosette,” he said turning to face her.  He grabbed her arm lightly and she gasped, pulling it away.  He furrowed his brow in confusion.  “What is wrong?” he asked, seriously.

“Nothing.  I, uh, I must have slept wrong,” she lied uneasily. 

“Show me your arm,” he ordered, suppressing coughs afterwards. 

She held her arm out, and he set to rolling up her sleeve.  “What happened?” he demanded when he saw the bruise.  He knew the look of a grab.  Someone had grabbed his angel – hard enough to bruise. “Marius?” he asked, his tone threatening.

“No, of course not.  He would never,” she said, realizing that she would not be able to get him to be calm enough to sleep without telling the truth.

“Who?” he asked, rolling her sleeve back down. 

“Please don’t be angry,” she said, leading him to the table.

“Trust me, Cosette, there have been many things that have angered me over the past month.  But, only Raoul’s actions have angered me more than whomever did this.”  He sneezed harshly and shivered.

“Oh, Javert,” she mused.  “Let’s get you back to bed.  I’ll tell you in the morning.”

Wise to her antics, he shook his head.  “No.  You’ll tell me now.  And, I’ll tell your father, and we’ll handle this.”

She shrugged.  “He knows,” she admitted.

“Is the person who did it still alive?” he asked, his voice threateningly low.

She nodded.  “Yea.  It’s all right.  Sometimes a girl… a lady… Sometimes a person does things they regret.”

Javert knew all about regrets.  Aside from the ones he had grown up with – had lived with all his life… Allowing Cosette’s confidence to fall so low was one of his newest – along with not being the one to kill Raoul – along with not taking her letter seriously…  He would not let her down again.  “Who?” he all but barked.

She didn’t know how to say it, but she knew she had to tell the truth.  “When papa saw me trying to talk to Marius, he misunderstood my intent.  I was trying to get him to stop the rabble in front of General LeMarque’s house.  But, he wouldn’t listen.  And you…”  she saw the betrayed look again.  “He saw how betrayed you looked.  I saw… I … saw how betrayed you looked.”

Putting the story together, he looked at her, shocked.  “Are you saying your papa did that to you?”

“Javert, don’t worry.  He thought I was standing against the two of you.”

Suddenly, harsh coughs, exploded out of Javert.  He pressed his handkerchief to his face as the coughs continued.

Cosette moved to his side, rubbing circles on his back.  “It’s all right Javert.  I’m going to take good care of you this time.  You’re safe here.”  Cold dread filled her.  She barely felt safe anymore.  If she did not care for him adequately, he would lose everything.  She couldn’t let him lose more because of her. 

She moved him up the stairs.   With each step, he leaned on her more heavily.  Consciousness was quickly fleeting from him.

All the while, she whispered assurances to him.  Finally, they reached his bedroom door.  “Cosette, you have done a commendable job caring for me,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” she whispered, opening the door. 

“I know you weren’t standing against us,” he assured her.

She smiled and nodded at him. 

“I love you, Cosette,” he admitted.

Taken aback she swallowed.  “I love you too,” she said, helping tuck him into bed.   She hoped that he wouldn’t remember their conversations.  She hoped he wouldn’t remember that he caught her crying – or that she was hurt.   If she couldn’t disappear physically, she hoped that she would at least disappear from his memories.


	46. Planting the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean, Javert, and Cosette finally have the talk they should have had since the beginning.

Cosette woke up with soft sounds.  Her head hurt because of her tears the night before.  Her heart hurt more than it had since she lived with the Thenardier’s.  She knew – she _knew_ – that she was loved.  But, she wasn’t certain where she belonged anymore.  Caregiver, daughter.  Perhaps that was all.  Perhaps friend, confidant, and comforter had all been dispersed between the two men at some point and they were just humoring her in her attempts. 

She blew out a gentle breath as she dressed.  Her eyes flickered to the door.  Low murmurs were making their way from downstairs.  They were awake and talking.  Javert was well enough to be out of bed.  She shook her head slightly.  No he wasn’t.  And if he went into Paris – even to go shopping with her papa – and he was spotted, he would lose everything.  For Javert his position was not simply a way to make money.  It came with prestige and respect. 

She blinked back tears, wishing she had died in Toulon. It would be easier on the two men, she knew.  No… that wasn’t right.  Her papa would be distraught.  Javert, too.  She shoved the negative thought to the side. They may have wanted her to leave home, but they did not want her dead.

Did they really want her to leave home?  The thought hit her like a blow to her heart.  Maybe they did not. Maybe it was all in her head.  Maybe…

A rough sneeze echoed from the floor below and spurred Cosette to move faster.  She could not let Javert go into town.  She had to care for him properly.

The men were in the sitting room, both sitting on the couch.  Her papa was in pants, a shirt, and suspenders, bent over so that his elbows were resting on his knees.  His hands were clasped together as he looked over at Javert, listening to something that caused him to think very deeply.

Javert was clad in his pajamas and robe.  A blanket was wrapped snuggly around him and, yet, he still seemed to be shivering.

“My deepest apologies for sleeping in,” she said, her voice hoarse from the emotional outburst the night before.

The men stopped talking and looked at her, their eyes serious.  It was obvious that she had interrupted. 

“Tea?” she asked, not waiting for an answer before heading into the

“Come back.”

Her papa’s request was simple, but she still paused.  She smiled gently and came back into the room.  “Yes, papa?”

“Cosette, please sit.”  His voice betrayed his fatigue, but his eyes were strong – angry.

She looked at her papa uneasily as she sat in the chair opposite the couch.  “What is it?” she asked, fearful of what they had decided – or what Javert had told him.

ValJean went to speak, but rested his head in his hand instead. 

“Be still, Jean,” Javert commanded, his voice tired but assertive none-the-less.

“Javert?” she asked, meekly.  Fear shone in her eyes.  She flashed back to Toulon. 

_She had struggled against Raoul as he tied her to the old operating table. But, once she was tied down, she stopped struggling.  The chain cut into her chest and legs.  Her focus on the chain was dampened by Raoul’s tirade about how he was going to get his revenge on Javert._

_“You’ve done this for nothing, you know.  They’re not coming,” she had told him, her voice devoid of emotion, her heart on fire from the truth of it._

_“Oh they’ll come.  I saw the way they treated you – the way they looked at you…”_

“I don’t allow my precinct to run without communication.  The past month has emphasized the importance of communication in the home as well.”  He suppressed a few coughs, waving away Jean and Cosette’s looks of concern.  “I refuse to stay unless the air is cleared.”

“Javert, you don’t have to leave,” she blurted out.

He held up his hand and nodded slowly, as though he were in communication with a subordinate rather than his angel.  “Your father and I have been speaking all morning.  The only thing that I feel can fix the damage that has been done is talking with each other honestly.  If we continue to spare each other’s feelings, it is my belief that this family will shatter.”

Cosette leaned back in the chair and folded her arms across her chest.  Dying in Toulon would have been better.  If she spoke, she would break her papa’s heart. If she did not, Javert would leave.  If Javert left, he would likely go to Paris – at which time he would lose his position.  “Yes, sir,” she whispered, knowing that no matter what she did, she would hurt people she loved.

“Cosette, what is it?” her papa’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She shook her head and dropped her gaze to her dress.  She didn’t know where to start.  “What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“What did I say?” ValJean asked, his voice breathy and strained.  “What did I say that made you think I wouldn’t come for you?”  Tears hovered in his eyes, threatening to fall.

She shook her head, unable to look at him.  “Nothing that didn’t need saying,” she answered, her voice cracking with repressed emotion.

“Tell him, Cosette.  Or I will leave,” Javert threatened. 

Knowing that hurting her papa was the only way to save everything Javert had ever worked for, she felt her loyalties torn in a way that she was certain would stop her heart.  She cleared her throat, eyeing the teapot on the table with longing.  She felt like she was a child again, under the scrutiny of her papa and his companion, trying to be a grown up. 

ValJean gave her a small nod and Cosette poured herself a cup of tea, sipping it delicately to buy herself some time.

“The first thing that you said…” she trailed off.  That wasn’t what she wanted to say.  “It started when you called me stupid.”

ValJean sat up a little straighter, his posture showing that he was listening and taking her words seriously.  

She cleared her throat gently.  “It wasn’t the insult that hurt the most.  You were ill and deeply feverish.  But, you mocked me for not courting yet.”  She swallowed hard, tears shining in her eyes.  “As if I don’t know how few eligible men are out there.  Papa, I am doing the best I can at every party- at every gathering.  I know that without a heritage, I’m not a prime choice.”

ValJean went to interject, but she shook her head.  “I’m doing the best I can,” she whispered. 

 _“It’s not good enough!” she heard Madame Thenardier’s voice in her ears._   She knew it wasn’t good enough.  She didn’t need the voices of her past to tell her.

“I know you are Cosette.  I don’t fault you for not having suitors.”  He looked at Javert, a small smile playing on his lips.  “Though I do wonder about the vision of the suitors.”

Javert’s heart eased some.  He knew how much that issue was hurting Cosette.  He allowed a small smile to appear on his lips, although his eyes remained cold.  ValJean’s joke was the first bit of normalcy that he had experienced in weeks.

Javert thought about Cosette’s fever dream.  He knew he couldn’t ask about it.  But, he wondered.  He tilted his chin down as he tried to figure out a way to bring it up.  After all, it was his insistence that they all be open with each other.

“Javert?” ValJean’s voice was soft, as though he wasn’t certain if the man was falling asleep or not. 

“ActCHUMP!” Javert sneezed into a well timed handkerchief.  He shivered and wished that he was as strong as he had been in his youth.  Back then, he would not allow a simple flu to cause such problems.  But, back then, he didn’t have such people who cared.  They both blessed them and he acknowledged them with a curt nod. 

“You also pointed out that I cannot care for you as well as Javert can,” she said, trying to give Javert the privacy that he had always given her. 

ValJean nodded, searching his memory for the intent behind the words.  In some ways that was true.  But, in no way did that mean that Cosette was incapable.  “Well, there are some ways in which only Javert can.  But, that in no way means you are not a capable at the healing arts.”

Hurt that she had been harboring lifted away as though it was never there.  Perhaps Javert was wiser than she gave him credit for.  “Thank you,” she said, smiling her first real smile in weeks.

Javert felt his heart get lighter.  Although he had told ValJean most of this prior to Cosette waking, he was glad that she trusted them enough to tell them what scars she was carrying.  This family would heal.  He may not have been experienced in the healing arts or with love or with family, but he knew communication and if that was all he gave this family, he hoped it would be enough.

He rubbed a knuckle on the side of his nose.  “Huh-AtpSHUMP!”

“This is too much for you,” Cosette said, after her papa blessed him.  “You should go back to bed.”

He looked at her critically.  “I’m wise to you, Cosette.  Oh, you’re good.  Good enough to work for the police.  But, I will not be coddled out of the honesty I insist on.”  He turned towards ValJean.  “You have raised a very formidable lady.  You should never question that again.”

ValJean tipped his chin up higher and turned his attention to Cosette.  “Is this something else I questioned?” He felt cold.  He prayed that he had never told either of them that he questioned her upbringing.

Cosette nodded gently.  “Yes,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. 

ValJean rubbed his forehead.  “What did I say?” he asked, his voice a shaky whisper.

Cosette was suddenly very interested in staring at the teapot.

“Cosette, please…”

She looked up.  Her heart twisted at the soft plea in his voice. 

“You called me a street rat.  You said that you thought your raised me better and-.”

ValJean cut her off.  “I apologize.”  His voice was breathy as he remembered this.   It was all over a dress – and Cosette trying to balance the responsibilities of being the lady of the house and his daughter.  “I know you are not a street rat.  I know you are a lady.  And I do not question it.  I was… I was frustrated with my own illness and I took it out on you.  I apologize.”  He turned towards Javert – his strength. 

Javert looked back at him, feverish eyes cold with distain.  This, more than almost anything else that was done, bothered him to the core.

“I forgive you, papa.  Of course.  I just…  between not being as good for you’re a Javert and not being a lady in your eyes… “

ValJean made a noise of hurt.  He couldn’t believe the depth of hurt that he had weighed on his precious daughter.  The light of his life.  And, he couldn’t believe that she still loved him and remained loyal to him. 

“I didn’t know what else to do to please you.  I do try to be a good daughter. Even though, I suppose, sometimes I a bit too outspoken…”

Javert started to chuckled.  “You are many things, Cosette, but you are not outspoken,” he assured her.

“You need not do anything else.  You are a magnificent daughter.  And, I love you.  And, I apologize for everything.”

“Papa,” she set her teacup down, “you’re forgiven – of course.”

He shouldn’t be.  There was no reason he had given her to forgive him so easily.  Simply for being her papa, it seemed.  “I will make this up to you, Cosette.  I promise.”

She looked at him, her eyes full of forgiveness.  She didn’t know what she had to do to convince him that simply being her papa was enough.  They had so many fantastically good years together that a few simple issues – even ones that she would carry herself was easily outweighed by the good.

“I know you will, papa,” she whispered, trying to get him to make eye contact with her.

“Cosette, why did you go with Raoul?” Javert asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Eyebrows creased in confusion.  “But…”

“Why?  Tell him why.”

“I thought Javert sent him to take me away from you two.”  Her answer was rushed out.   She knew that it would only anger her papa.

Extreme confusion crossed ValJean’s features as he looked between the two of them.  “Why would you ever think that?”

“Because of this,” Javert said, pulling out the crinkled letter and handed it to ValJean.

With a shaking hand, ValJean took the letter, fearful of what it could say.  He unfolded his spectacles and read the letter, feeling bits of rage spark in his brain.  “What happened?” he asked, Cosette and Javert as though he was talking with children.

“I wrote that letter right after Javert left – before he was injured,” Cosette started.

“I didn’t see it until weeks later,” Javert explained.  “But, she didn’t know that and was operating under the assumption that I was biding time until she could leave.”

The reason for Cosette’s sudden interest in courting hit ValJean like a ton of bricks.

“So, when I was saying goodbye to Raoul, and he said that Javert had sent him… I figured it was an arranged marriage of sorts.  And, if Javert sent him, he would have to be the best sort of man.”

ValJean couldn’t believe what was going on in his house –around him – without him realizing.  “Why were you surprised that I came and rescued you?”

“Because with me gone, you and Javert could be happy – of course,” she replied, as though they were having a general conversation. 

Both men startled and looked at her. 

Javert was touched.  Never had he had someone care for his happiness so much that they forfeit their own happiness and safety completely.  But, he was angry too.  He wracked his brains trying to figure out what happened – what he had done – to make her think that only after she was gone would he be truly happy.  He figured the weak logic only relied on the letter.

“What happened to cause you to think that?” ValJean asked, unwilling to guess at what would cause her to think so little of Javert and his love for her.

“You told me you wanted me out of your house,” she answered honestly.  “And coupled with not being as good for you as Javert and all the other things… “

“When did I say that?”

“Right after I almost shot her,” Javert interjected.  “When you thought she had almost shot me. 

Ice ran through ValJean’s veins as he realized that if he had even a slightly less loyal daughter, he would have lost her by now -if not to Raoul than to Marius.  He thought about how horrible she had to have felt – first almost being shot, then taking responsibility for it, then being nearly kicked out by her own father for something she didn’t do.  That, coupled with the letter, her lack of sleep, and all of the other insults that she had taken in – on top of being brought up in a web of lies and deceit when she was child – it was a recipe for disaster.  He wondered how close he hand come to losing his daughter completely – and he never would have known why.

“There are no words…” ValJean choked out, resting his head in his hands. 

Cosette got up and knelt down in front of him.  “Papa, I’m right here,” she said, reaching up to place her hand on his heart.  “You didn’t lose me.  It all turned out all right in the end.”

He placed his hand on her upper arm as a returned gesture of comfort, looking confused when she flinched away.  “What is it?” he whispered.

“Show him,” Javert insisted.  He smothered a few wet coughs into his handkerchief.

Untying the a bit of her dress, she pulled down one shoulder, revealing the bruise that had already started to turn green and yellow.

“Who did that?  Raoul?” he barked.  Ever so gently, he ran his thumb over the bruise and moved to look at it from different angles.  Suddenly, reality dawned on him.  “This is from yesterday…”  his voice trailed off.

“It is,” she responded simply.

His eyes closed and tears leaked from it.  This was truly unforgivable.  His shoulders shook as he repressed the sobs.

Sad pleading eyes turned to Javert as Cosette sat next to her papa and wrapped her arms around him.  “It’s all right, papa.  I’m here.  Javert is here.  We’re going to get through this.”

Ignoring her, he continued to try to repress the tears. 

 “Jean, she’s a good girl.  And I’m not going to leave.  It’s all out in the open now.  We can heal together.”  He turned, a slow wet sneeze working its way out.  “Kesstchoo!”  He coughed a bit.  “How about, we all go out to eat tonight.  We know I can act well… “

“No!” Cosette insisted, causing the two men to jump from her conviction.  “At least not Paris, okay?  It’s um… too far.  And, Javert, you’re just not well… enough.”

ValJean and Javert exchanged confused looks. 

“What happened?” Javert asked, his tone broaching no room for lies or argument.

An idea dawned on ValJean.  “This has to do with what the Captain said to you, doesn’t it?”

Javert’s calm demeanor turned serious and his eyes grew stormy.  “What Captain?” he nearly barked at her.

Cosette swallowed thickly, looking at the table as she spoke.  “Captain Vidocq told me that it was my responsibility to make you well.  He said that he would… relieve me from duty from your life if he could, and that if you return to Paris unwell – he would… he… would relieve your of your post indefinitely.”

“I’ll kill him,” Javert whispered, his mind elsewhere.  “Cosette, why did you not tell me?”

“I didn’t think it warranted it.  I can help you feel better.  We know this.”

Javert turned to ValJean and stood up.  “Jean, prepare the carriage.  We’re going to Paris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am considering making this story follow the events of Les Mis: the death of LeMarque, the barricade, Cosette's wedding. Would you guys be okay with that?


	47. Protecting the Garden I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert, ValJean and Cosette make their way to Paris.

Cosette wrapped a second blanket around a shivering Javert, placing his hat gently on the seat across from him. He had demanded that he dress in his best military uniform, complete with his medal of honor from the revolution. Although he looked quite dashing, his eyes were still unfocused with fever. 

“I don’t think this is wise,” she admonished, still fearful of the ramifications of bringing him into the city. Although he did not seem to fear the threats of Vidocq, there was also the fact that he was still considerably unwell. The air was getting chillier and held a slightly moist hue, as though it was going to rain soon. This was not weather for an ill man to be out in. Least of all one who was under her care.

He cleared his throat. “Captain Vidocq is not my superior,” he explained, pulling his arms out from under the blankets and tucking them around his lap. 

“What?” she asked, the confusion and mistrust evident in her voice. “But, his threat.”

Javert and ValJean shared a knowing look as ValJean pushed Cosette’s dress in the carriage. “Captain Vidocq,” ValJean began.

“Jean!” Javert cut in, trying to keep him from telling Cosette privileged information. 

ValJean looked at him steadily as he continued. “Captain Vidocq is more political than police. Javert does not report to him. Therefore, he has no right to make such assertions.” 

“Then who do you report to?” Cosette asked innocently.

“The prefects,” Javert responded quickly as he withdrew his handkerchief and sneezed heavily into it.

She sighed and blessed him quietly. 

He rubbed his forehead, as though he were trying to push away an ache. 

“What if they make you work today?” she asked.

“I expect it,” he replied, his eyes starting to close as ValJean started to drive the carriage.

“We’ll stay in the city until you’re ready to come home,” she promised.

“I expect that too,” he replied drowsily as he fell to sleep.


	48. Setting Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette and ValJean deposit Javert at the prefect - but there are other problems that Cosette has her mind on.

“I don’t like this,” Cosette admonished, looking into Javert’s fever hazed eyes.  She attempted not to look at him with the pity that she felt, but she was certain that it showed in her eyes. 

Javert scowled as they practically manhandled him into his uniform.  He had taken his coat and leather stock off during the ride, but now the time had come to put it back on and drop him off at the station of police.  But, the fever still raged within him and he set to the exhausting task of suppressing his symptoms – leaving his voice hoarse, his head aching, and his face even more red than the fever would have left it.

As ValJean buttoned his jacket, nimble fingers commanding the cold metal buttons, Cosette pinned on his Medal of Honor.  Javert did not speak of what he received his honors, but there was no doubt in her heart or mind that he had deserved them.  She brushed a hand over his epaulette, making certain that the fringes hung just right. 

“Cosette!” her papa chastised.  “It is not your place.  And we don’t need that sort of negativity.”  His own breath hitching, he quickly turned and sneezed harshly into his palm.  Another quick stifled sneeze reminded Cosette that he was not yet well either.

“My apologies, Javert.  I am merely concerned,” she whispered, smiling ever so slightly when he reached out a gloved hand and squeezed hers.  As horrible as the past month had been, it had drawn them together, somehow.

“Bless you, papa,” she muttered, handing Javert his hat.  He truly was a sight to behold.  And with the weather getting nippier, the fever stained cheeks could be caused by windburn.

She stepped out of the carriage before him, standing by her papa as they gave him room.  She held her breath as he peered out and held onto the side of the door.  To the untrained observer, he was the famous Inspector Javert – feared by all who knew him and moreso by those who did not.  But, ValJean and Cosette saw a different sight – as though holding onto the door was not disturbing enough, he was shaking.  Javert looked at the carriage step as though it was an obstacle, not something he had used for most of his life.  The trepidation only lasted a moment before Javert stepped out of the carriage and placed on his hat.

“We’ll be close.  We’ll pick you up in a few hours,” ValJean’s low tenor rumbled at Javert.  Even a passerby would not have been able to hear it. 

“Here,” Cosette said, handing Javert one of her hand embroidered handkerchiefs. 

The corners of Javerts mouth turned up just a bit.  He wordlessly took the proffered gift and put it up his sleeve.  He could not use it without people talking.  But, her intentions were pure and refusing it would only cause her insult. 

With a short nod, he went to take a step towards the police station.  But, a harsh sneeze exploded out of him, stopping him where he stood. 

Cosette stayed her papa’s hand and placed her own on top of Javert’s shoulder.  It took a moment, but Javert righted himself with a strong sniff and focused his eyes.  “I’ll be all right,” he assured Cosette.  With a curt nod at ValJean he disappeared inside the station.

No sooner had Javert disappeared inside the station than ValJean doubled over with an intense double sneeze.  Wrenching his hand free from Cosette, he covered his mouth, belatedly. 

Cosette immediately turned her attention to her papa.  “Let’s rest in the carriage,” she suggested.

“No,” he breathed.  “It’ll be too hot.”

Her heart melted.  She would have to take care of him while they were walking about.  Gently, she wrapped her arm around his.  “Lead the way,” she urged.  She would follow his lead today and stop him only when she saw that he had too much. 


	49. Pulling a Weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert has his conversation with Vidocq

The day had passed slowly.  Javert had long since learned to listen for the chimes of the clock to tell him how much of the day had passed.  Most days they seemed to rush past, but today crept by.  Stars danced in front of his vision and he wished he was home resting with ValJean.

A knock at his door made him look up.  A dark look crossed his features as he noticed Captain Vidocq stepping inside.  “Ah Captain,” he said, his voice mostly normal but a little strained.  “Do come in, I have a matter to discuss with you.”

The Captain came into his office and stood before him.  “I must admit, I didn’t expect you back to work so soon.”  He scanned the Inspector and Javert knew that he would have to make a quick strong front.  He just hoped that it didn’t tire him too badly. 

“Yes, well, I couldn’t continue to neglect my duties. As you well know, it builds up until someone catches up with you.”

The Captain nodded.

Javert stood and clasped his hands behind his back.  “I have heard some interesting rumors about you.  You know the rule – no rumors.”  He regarded the Captain seriously.  The two of them would have made formidable partners, but they were more formidable adversaries.  They never trusted each other – both of their pasts were cast in shadow.  Neither of which went unnoticed by the other. 

“Interesting.  For I have heard similar about you,” the Captain countered.

“Indeed.  But, I care not what you have heard about me.”  He came up to stand in front of the Captain.  They regarded each other for a moment.  His resolve made up, Javert pushed the Captain against the wall, pressing his forearm into his throat.  “But, you will listen to me,” he ordered, his voice low and threatening.  “If I ever hear that you have approached my ward with threats against me again, I swear on the stars that I will undo you.  Do I make myself clear?”

He could feel the Captain growling at him, the vibrations tickling his arm.  “Are you certain that’s all she is?  I saw you dancing with her at the Ball.  I daresay you smiled.  Perhaps you have other plans for your … ward?”

Reflexively, Javert smashed his forearm into the Captains nose.  “I would advise against that line of thinking,” he said as though he was talking to a curious subordinate.  His tone was gentle, but his eyes were threatening.  They both knew that he would not kill the Captain and, after another moment, Javert released him and walked away.  His anger fueled him to gather a team of rookies and take them out for some field training.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters are short, but the characters aren't quite setting up as fast as they had been. Don't worry, as soon as I get the end down, I'll start posting longer chapters again.


	50. Shadows of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean and Cosette run into some shady characters from their past - and anger Javert in the process.

Heat burned within ValJean as he and Cosette walked along the street.  He knew that at home, with a cup of tea, a warm fire, and about two less layers, the mild fever would hardly bother him.  But, walking about in the cool air, wearing several layers of clothing, made sweat trickle down his back and his breakfast churn in his stomach.  It took all he had not to let Cosette see his discomfort.  There was nothing to be done for it.  They were there to support Javert. 

As they tread down one of the more destitute streets, a sneeze erupted from him that caused him to stumble forward.  Cosette tightened her grip on his arm and pulled back, careful not to let him fall.  The destitute shrank away from him, even as he dipped his hand into his pocket and handed coins to Cosette for distribution. 

“I’m all right,” he whispered as he mopped his nose.  “Heh-Eppsshheeww!” The sneeze caused him to pause. 

Cosette handed out the coins with a smile and, although people took the coins, they looked at both of them warily.  She never let go of her papa, though, choosing to pull his arm closer to her rather than let go.  She grew up on the street and knew how quickly someone would take advantage of an ill gentleman. 

“Bless you,” she whispered after he took a moment and they started to move on.

“Thank you,” he said, patting her hand gently.  He felt comfortable with her and he knew that she would not leave his side.

“Marius,” she mumbled, her voice taking a happy tone. 

ValJean followed her gaze to a young man who he did recall having seen at parties before.  His heart warmed as he watched the light of his life brighten.  She waved at Marius and the young man said a few things to the people around him before making his way towards Cosette.

“Papa, this is Marius Pontmancy,” she introduced.  “Marius this is my papa.”

“Monsieur le Maire,” Marius said, shaking ValJean’s hand firmly.  “It is a beautiful day, is it not?”

“Indeed,” ValJean returned.  The boy was more forward than was proper when he was their age.  But, he was well dressed and the love that he felt for Cosette was evident in his eyes.  His eyes fluttered shut as he turned himself partly away from the pair.  “Hurcchhssshoo!” he sneezed wetly, catching it in his handkerchief just in time.  “Do excuse me.”

“Forgive me, sir, but you are not well,” Marius pointed out, his eyes mirroring the concern in Cosette’s. 

“Merely a cold.  Nothing to concern yourself over.”

“Monsieur, if I may, my grandfather swears by a rather nice brandy to take the edge off such ailments. Should it please you, I will bring some over tomorrow.”

The young man’s concern was touching and ValJean could not bear to turn down such a fine offer.  “It would.  And it would give us some time to discuss affairs of the heart,” he said, casting a gentle look at Cosette.

Marius could not help but smile as he, too, looked at Cosette.  “Well, then I shall see you tomorrow.  Shall we say around two?  I assure you I will not trouble you long.”  Marius started looking over his shoulder, evident that he was being kept from other important business. 

“Your company would be welcome,” ValJean assured him, shaking the young man’s hand again and allowing him to go on his way.

“He’s very well spoken,” he said to Cosette. 

She nodded, but did not say anything.  She did not wish to infuriate her papa again with talk of the Revolution, which was Marius’ favorite topic of late.  The look of disappointment – no _betrayal_ – on Javert’s face plagued her once again.  She could not let the Revolution tear her family apart.  

“Does he dance well?” ValJean asked, in an attempt to draw her out.

She nodded more enthusiastically.  “He is very light on his feet,” she said. 

ValJean was not certain why she did not wish to talk of the man who so obviously held her heart.  But, as a headache started to pound behind his eyes, he decided it was a conversation for another day.

The sound of a baby crying grated through his consciousness.  He was blessed that Cosette had been beyond the point of infancy when he adopted her.  Turning, he came to an awning where a woman, far too old to be the mother of an infant was distraught as she tried to calm her screaming baby.  An old man with long stringy hair beckoned him to come under the awning and he released Cosette’s arm to do so.

The glint in the man’s eye made her feel uncomfortable.  Something was wrong, familiar and bad.  “Papa, I don’t feel it’s wise,” she warned, in a hushed whisper.

“Hush,” he told her.  “Maybe I can help the child.”  As soon as he was under the awning, he found himself face to face with Madame Thenardier.  _No_ , he thought.  He knew he could not let on that he knew her.  And, more importantly, he knew that he had to get Cosette as far away from the pair as possible.

“Wait a minute,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.  “I know you.  You’re the man who kidnapped Cosette,” she accused.

“Who is Cosette?” he asked, innocently, as he reached over for the child. 

A potato sack fell out of her arms and he quickly jumped up.  Cosette was correct – he had not been wise about this. 

“I would not forget you – you owe us an annual stipend on the girl,” Monsieur Thenardier accused.

Suddenly, he heard a voice call out to run and he called for Cosette.  A cough choked him, as she grabbed his arm and assisted him from the awning. 

As though he had felt that ValJean was in trouble, Javert strode into the mix.  “Was there a witness to this brawl?  If so, please allow me the pleasure of speaking to him.”  He looked over ValJean and blanched.  The man’s fever was far too high.  Although Cosette was at his side, his family was in far more danger than he would have preferred.

He looked at the destitute in the group and his eyes narrowed as they landed on the Thenardiers.  He had not seen them in Paris before and he was less than pleased that they were there now.  He recalled Cosette trying to pleasure him, while lost in the theros of the fever dream.  He had wanted to punish the couple since that night.  However, the laws demanded that there be a victim and a witness in order to prosecute.  With ValJean as the victim and Cosette as the witness, he was certain that he could finally put the man behind bars to rot. 

“This swarm of vermin could have robbed you blind, Monsieur,” he said.  “But, don’t you worry.  I know this man,” he said, coming up to Monsieur Thenardier, “and his trade.  With your assistance, I’ll see him suitably paid for his services.”

He expected to hear ValJean’s voice beside him.  To play mayor and inspector to put on a good show.  But, when al he heard was silence, he turned.  “Where did the gentleman go?” he asked the crowd that had assembled, who all suddenly looked very busy.  “Why by the stars would he run?” he asked himself, looking around.  He noticed Cosette’s hair as she rounded a corner. 

He frowned.  They finally had a chance to get revenge on the Thenardier’s and ValJean had run.  It didn’t make any sense.

As they rounded the corner, ValJean coughed wetly and spat.  Panting heavily, he leaned one hand against the wall.  “Pardon me, Cosette,” he breathed.

Cosette rubbed her papa’s back.  She felt cold in the pit of her stomach.  The Thenardier’s – she hadn’t thought much of them.  But, she felt faint when she saw them again.  They had made her life so miserable that guilt threatened to blind her and steal her breath when she remembered how kind her papa had been to her over the years.  She was a strong woman – she could withstand the changes in their relationship quietly and without reservation.  He was too kind of a man to put up with her petulance and she vowed to herself that she would not make him again.

Suddenly, ValJean pulled her close to him.  The hug was tight and she felt the heat radiating through his clothing.

Imploring eyes looked up at him as she took in the sweat running down his face.  “Papa, you are _not_ well,” she said, echoing Marius’ statement from earlier.

“I apologize Cosette.  I nearly put you in harms way and I will not do so again.”

She stood back, her eyes narrowing as she made eye contact with him.  “Papa, Javert was there.  He would have protected us.  We did not need to run.”

“That is something that I will take up with Javert later,” he said.  His breathing had become ragged and he needed to rest.  He was fearful that he would not last the rest of the day in the wake of such excitement.

When they left the alleyway, they passed Javert who was trying to get the passersby who had stopped to continue passing by.  He and Javert exchanged looks – ValJeans haggard one for Javert’s angered.  They both understood that the day had to come to an end, just as they both understood that there would be little rest for either of them that night.


	51. Fire Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the evening does not go as expected, it is exactly what Javert and ValJean needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some m/m action in this chapter, but it is not overt or crass.

ValJean sniffed wetly and moaned comfortably as Cosette poured a teapot of hot water into the basin where he rested his feet.  Javert was bundled and lying on the couch in the parlor slipping in and out of consciousness. 

“Papa, you pressed too hard,” Cosette pointed out, as his eyes fluttered shut with an impending sneeze. 

“HurCHOO!  Essshhaaa!”  Forceful and wet, he took a moment to blow his nose and mop up his tearing eyes. 

He sighed deeply. “I did.  I apologize,” he said, sadly.  The poor girl had been far too responsible for his health as of late. He had wanted to be there for Javert, but he should have sent her alone.  A chill raced down his spine as he thought of her coming up against the Thenardier’s on her own.  No, that would not have done.  He was glad to have been there with her.

“Javert?” Cosette whispered, kneeling beside him. 

Bleary eyes regarded her warily. 

She lifted him up a bit, leaning him forward so that he could sip some water. He withdrew his head when he was finished and sighed wearily as she set him back down. 

She was not pleased that they were both so unwell – again.  But, she had faith that her papa would be well by the next morning.  His fever broke as soon as he had removed his coat, jacket, vest and socks.  Javert’s flu, however, still ravaged his system. 

She placed a cool cloth on Javert’s forehead and frowned as his fever glazed eyes did not recognize her. 

“Papa? He needs to go to bed,” she said, her voice fading off at the end.

ValJean coughed huskily and then nodded pulling his feet out of the warm water and shivering as the cool air hit them.  He groaned as he got up and looked at his companion.  Brown eyes softened as he took in how sick and weak Javert really was.  Javert’s face was pale and drawn with dark circles appearing under his eyes.  His cheeks were fever stained and his nose and lips were chapped.  Vague eyes looked at ValJean.  A flicker of anger crossed Javerts features before he blinked hard and a bit of familiarity was brought back to them.

ValJean kneeled down next to Javert.  “Come, my love,” he murmured in a voice so low that it was obvious that he would never say such an endearment if Javert was feeling better. 

“Monsieur le Maire,” Javert answered.  He gently ran a hand over ValJean’s.  “I apologize for my insubordinance – not once, but twice.”  He coughed roughly into a balled fist.  “I did not have the right… I… I thought…”  His eyes fluttered closed. 

ValJean’s heart clenched.  He had not thought about Javert’s insubordinate attitude towards him in nearly a decade.  But, the old alias coupled with the apology reminded him of when Javert had alluded to his true identity and then tried to keep him from rescuing Fantine. 

He placed a hand on Javert’s forehead.  The man was burning up.  “Cosette, please bring a basin of water and clothes up to the bedroom,” he requested as he hoisted Javert into his arms. The man was lighter than he looked.

Cosette bustled into the kitchen.  He heard her pumping the water and smiled.  He was blessed to have her in his life and he was aware of it – maybe moreso now than he had ever been before.  The thought of having to give her to a suitor was bittersweet.  The house would be different without her.  His words mocking her for not being able to care for him as well as Javert echoed in his ears.  He shook his head a bit. She hadn’t deserved such a statement.  She obviously cared about them.  And, she had cared for them when they were unable to care for each other.  He hoped that Marius would be by the next day to take her out.  Now that he was feeling better, he would take care of Javert and let Cosette have a bit of a life of her own.

He lay Javert onto the bed and set to stripping him down to his shift.  He just got him tucked under the covers when Cosette came in. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, giving him a concerned look. 

“Much better, thank you,” he replied simply.

She smiled a bit.  He was never as free with his emotions as he had been in the past month.  Now that he was becoming tight lipped again, she knew that things would return to normal.  She placed a wet handkerchief to Javert’s forhead. 

Javert stirred a bit and she hushed him, speaking to him in low tones until he settled again.

“Thank you, Cosette,” ValJean said, his voice edged with pride.  “You have been good to him – to both of us.  You are ready for a husband.  When Marius comes over tomorrow, I will grant him permission to court you – formally.”

A smile spread over her face and made her eyes dance.  “Thank you, papa.”

Javert grunted.  “No… not the prostitute.  You know not what you … what you do…”

ValJean furrowed his brow in concern.  He placed his hand on Javert’s arm as he sat next to him on the bed.  “Rest,” he said, his low tenor vibrating soothingly.

“But… Fantine… I did not know…  by the stars…. Apologies.”

ValJean’s heart clenched.  The man was lost in a fever dream of years long ago.  “You have been forgiven.”

Cosette blinked rapidly.  When she was a child, her papa had told her stories of her mother and how hard she had worked and why she had sent him to care for Cosette.   But, she did not know that Javert had known her as well. 

“What of my mother?” she asked quietly.

ValJean looked at her.  “Not now, Cosette,” he implored.

“Yes, papa,” she whispered, her voice contrite.  It didn’t matter of course. Javert was ill and that’s all her papa would focus his attentions on.  It’s all that he should and the fact that she could not told her that she needed to retire for the evening.  “Goodnight,” she whispered, kissing him gently on the cheek.

He grunted at her and heard the door to his room close.   With a sigh, he rewet the handkerchief and placed it on Javert’s forehead.  He changed into his own shift and then climbed into bed beside Javert.  He took the smaller man into his arm, feeling his muscular frame twitch as he remained lost to his dreams.

ValJean turned onto his side and stroked Javert’s arm.  Broad hands lingered on the man’s shoulder and pectoral for a few seconds as he wondered what he had done right to have such a fine specimen of man to call his companion.  He held his breath for a moment as Javert turned towards him. 

Bleary eyes opened and looked at ValJean. 

“My apologies for awakening you,” ValJean said, starting to turn onto his back.  But, much to his shock and delight, Javert wrapped an arm around him and snuggled in.  Javert shuddered against the coolness of ValJean’s skin and snuffled congestedly.

“Hush now.  I have you,” ValJean soothed, wrapping his arms around Javert.  Javert closed his eyes and nodded, laying his head just in the hollow of ValJean’s chest. 

ValJean sighed happily.  While he was not pleased that Javert was so ill, it was a very rare occurrence for the man to be affectionate at all, let alone snuggly.  Suddenly, he felt a hand sliding over his thigh. 

“What are you doing?” he asked with a low chuckle.

“Thought that was obvious,” Javert whispered, not opening his eyes.  His voice was strained and it was obvious that he was partway between asleep and awake. 

ValJean was about to retort when he felt Javert’s firm but gentle touch.  He gasped, having forgotten how long it had been since they were intimate.  His body craved Javert and yearned for his touch.  Although the man was ill and feverish, ValJean could not bring himself to stop the stroking.  “Javert, you don’t… you don’t have to.”  He placed a broad hand on Javert’s hip, letting him know that he was safe and nothing bad would happen to him in the one simple gesture.

Javert opened his eyes again.  “I do have to… to thank you.”

ValJean brushed the hair that had fallen into Javerts face off to the side.  “For what?”  Both he and Javert knew that nothing was owed for this love.  But, that was when Javert was in his right mind – which he presently obviously was not.

“HAR-Tsschhh!”  Javert’s unrestrained sneeze landed on ValJean’s chest, causing his body to buck against ValJean’s powerful hip.  Javert’s eyes flew open and something similar to a mixture of vulnerability and fear lay within them. 

“Just rest,” ValJean, said pulling him closer.   He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of Javert’s head.

Javert snuffled, removing his hand and knuckling his nose a bit.  “My apologies,” he mumbled, his face flushing with more that just fever.

ValJean was not surprised at the sudden stop of Javert’s hand. He knew that fevers tended to leech the strength out of Javert and presently he we pretty certain he knew kittens with more fight in them.   He was, however, surprised when Javert started bucking against him.

“Not now,” he admonished gently, like one would a small child. 

“But, please…” Javert nearly whined.  “It has been so long.”

ValJean nodded his head minutely.  Indeed it had been well over a month.  He knew he craved Javert when he was well, but when he was ill, he felt more like the monster he was in Toulon or the failure he was to his sister.  But, now, with his daughter asleep in her own room, his companion sick and safe in his arms, and he being able to protect and care for each of them – he couldn’t imagine being in any other life.

“It has, but I don’t know that,” ‘you’re up for it’, was the wrong thing to say.  Javert would exhaust himself even more to prove that he was up for anything ValJean could dish out.  “it’s a good idea,” he finished, pulling him closer.

A small snuffle and then a wet, tight, “KerPLECH!” against his side confirmed the suspicions. 

“Blessings,” he whispered, not releasing Javert when he tried to pull away.  “No, no it’s okay… hush…” he said, reaching into his side table drawer for a fresh handkerchief.  He handed it over to Javert, who wiped his nose and gave a stuffly blow, which gave way to chesty, wet coughs.

ValJean gasped again as he felt Javert’s hand rake up his side and toy with his nipples.  Ill or not, the man knew how to please him.  With a deep breath of resignation, he turned over onto his side and grasped Javert’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing the man to jump and gasp, bucking against ValJean again. 

Javert’s shuddering breath caused ValJean to pause.  He wasn’t certain if the man was gasping from pleasure or another sneeze.   His whimper after ValJean’s pause made him realize that it was pleasure.  Twisting his nipple a bit, he leaned over and bit the man’s neck softy.  The taste of sweat and dirt assaulted his lips.  Javert’s scent was masked by the smell of the disease rotting his insides.  But, the shuddering gasp that emanated from him made ValJean push aside the feelings of caregiving and enjoy having Javert in his arms.

“J-Jean,” Javert suddenly gasped, his voice panicked. 

“Just hold on,” ValJean instructed, wrapping his arms tightly around Javert and letting the smaller man do the same.

“HesPLECH! KesSPLET! Heck-huh-SHUM!” Javert sneezed violently.

The spray hit ValJean’s shift, soaking it instantly.  But, he did not pull away in disgust.  Rather he held Javert close until he pulled away on his own to blow his nose.  The change in pressure caused him to start coughing again.

“Apologies,” Javert breathed with a sniffle and a clear of his throat. 

“None warranted,” ValJean answered.  The dejected look on Javert’s face nearly broke his heart.  The man was truly vulnerable and needed to be assured that he was protected – the way he protected the family and the public.  Against his better judgment, ValJean reached down and stroked Javert firmly. 

The man gasped and squirmed, bucking his muscular hips against ValJean’s hands.  Suddenly, he blinked rapidly and pressed a hand to his ear.  “HesPLECH!” he sneezed wetly, covering it with his arm.  He realized with a sigh that ValJean had stopped.  “I guess my body is not as willing as I am,” Javert whispered.

ValJean pressed a kiss to the side of Javert’s head.  “It’s nice just to be with you again.  No wards or demands on our time.”

Observant brown eyes slide to take in his strong and loving companion.  He nodded slowly trying not to think too hard on the fact that he had just insulted Cosette – a young lady who had been through Hell and back, yet still was loyal to them.   Instead he nodded, sighing with relief and enjoying ValJean’s uninterrupted company.

Suddenly, ValJean started to cough.  At first they were quiet and restrained.  Then harsher, causing the man to sit up and need a sip of water. 

Concerned eyes followed his companion’s motions.  “What is it?”

“Just a lingering cough,” ValJean said, slipping back down on to his back.

“Do you need a doctor?” he asked, concerned for the cough that would not go away.  He had seen such things in Toulon and normally they were deadly.

ValJean gave him a wry grin.  “Of course not,” he said. “It’s not consumption, Javert.  Merely a lingering cough.”  As if to accentuate his point, he suppressed a few coughs.  He wrapped his arms around Javert, so that he was spooning the smaller man.  “You’re one to press me for a doctor.”

“We know what this is,” he replied with a sniffle. 

“You worry too much,” ValJean answered. 

“As though you’ve never worried too much…” Javert teased.

ValJean smiled and nipped at his ear, causing the man to gasp.  Using the tip of his tongue, he traced the outline of Javert’s ear, sucking on the lobe and teasing the inner ear.  Suddenly, Javert yelped, bucking against a building release.  Surprised that it took so little, ValJean grasped Javert in his hand.   Javert responded with panting breaths, but stopped bucking.   “HesPLECH! KesPLESTT!” he sneezed wetly, unrestrained towards the other side of the bed.  He bucked hard against ValJean and cried out in release.   He felt bad – the whole experience took less than five minutes.  He was desperate for touch and that became apparent.  Guilt squeezed his heart as he realized that he was unable to please ValJean in any way.

“Are you all right?” ValJean asked. 

Javert nodded with a guilt fueled sniffle. 

ValJean recalled how bad he had felt the year before when he had the grippe* and the tables were turned.  “You’ve already pleased me when I was ill.  Consider this repayment,” he whispered. 

Javert knew exactly what he was talking about.  ValJean had been bedridden with a such a violent bout of the grippe that the local doctor was certain that it was going to take his life.  One a particularly weak night, Javert reminded ValJean what it was to feel pleasure, to have something to fight for – to feel again.  “Merci, monsieur*,” he whispered, feeling the guilt release and sleep start to relax him.  Within moments, he was sleeping soundly and snoring lightly in his lovers arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see there was a plot bunny for a future sick!fic. I may need to be reminded that it's here.
> 
> la grippe - Influenza / flu
> 
> Merci, monsieur - Thank you, gentleman (man-formal)


	52. Rose Leaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house prepares for the most important day in Cosette's life - so far.

_“You’ll have to just kill me.  They won’t notice.”  Cosette’s voice felt strange to her ears.  Whether or not her papa and Javert noticed she was gone was immaterial; they would never find her.  Who would think to look for her at Toulon Prison?_

_“They’ll notice.”_

_The vindictive nature of Raoul’s voice sent chills up her spine.  He was going to kill someone.  She hoped it would be her.  She closed her eyes and imagined her papa and Javert sitting next to each other on the couch.  She was certain they would grieve – at least for a short time.  But, they would get through it.  She imagined her papa’s laugh mingling with Javert insisting that something wasn’t humourous in the least.  They were happier without her, she knew._

_She wondered if her papa would shed tears for her, although some part of her knew that he would.  She felt the most bad for Javert.  It was he who would hold any pain he felt inside.  But, just as her presence in their lives pushed them apart, so she prayed her absence would push them together._

_The hours ticked by with Raoul growing angrier by the moment._

_“If they will not come, I will make certain that all they find of you is what the fish have not eaten,” he said coming close to her.  He spilled some liquid onto a cloth and the smell of chloroform assaulted her senses.  At least she would not feel anything as she died._

_She tried to stay her shaking, to show him that she was strong and that she was prepared to face death.  Suddenly, the cloth went over her mouth.  Strong fingers pinched her nose shut and she found herself trying to struggle free. But, it only lasted for a few seconds.  Within moments, she was feeling thoughts slip from her head.  ‘For you, papa,’ she thought before her world faded to black._

Cosette sat upright, gasping for air.  Blue crystalline eyes looked widely around as she realized that it had all been a dream.  Too shaken to move, she trembled violently and held her head in her hands allowing the tears to escape.  She sniffled wetly, careful not to sob except when absolutely necessary.  She could not bother her papa with these petty concerns.  Imagine, a lady her age having nightmares.  Shame washed over her as she remembered Javert, ill as he was, concerned for her tears.  No, this was ridiculous.  She had to stop such childish things. 

But, she found that she could not.  The fear of death gripped her heart.  She no longer wished to die and she begged God for forgiveness for such foolish thoughts. 

She heard the clock strike three, then four.  Knowing she had to be up in a few hours, she stopped her tears and laid back down.  Sorrow and guilt leeched her energy away as she eyes finally closed, earning her a few more hours of well deserved sleep.

When she woke up next, she prepared herself for a long and exciting day.  Prior to going downstairs, she peered into her papa’s room.  She smiled to see he and Javert sleeping soundly.  The two men had been through so much in the past month, she couldn’t bear to wake them.  She hoped that the smell of breakfast would do its job.

After she baked the muffins, she started the water for tea.  She heard movement coming from upstairs and was happy that the two men were waking on their own.  She heard steady steps on the stairs and turned to see her papa closing his shirt cuffs.  He opened his arms to her and she smiled, happy to have some semblance of normalcy.  She came up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“I trust you slept well?”  she asked.

“Indeed, quite well,” he said with a smile. 

“Javert is still asleep?” she asked, making pleasant conversation as she started cooking the eggs. 

“Aye.  He needs his rest,” he replied with a twinge of protectiveness. 

“Indeed,” she agreed.  The man only had two days before he had to return to work and she wanted to make certain that he was as well as possible.  The grippe had ravaged their household before and typically took several weeks before it released its hold.  With all that Javert had been through in the preceding month, Cosette wasn’t certain if he would recover faster or slower, but she hoped it was faster.  He couldn’t risk being sick on the job any longer.

“Are you excited?” ValJean asked, pulling Cosette from her thoughts.

“Very much so,” she replied honestly.  “Perhaps this isn’t a good day, however.  Maybe a day where Javert is up for company is more appropriate.”

“I assure you, I am not as ill as all that,” Javert said, coming down the stairs in his uniform.

Both Cosette and ValJean gave him disapproving looks.  Cosette sucked in a breath to say something, but ValJean beat her to it.  “Perhaps a bath first?” he said, causing Javert to look at him oddly.  “It’ll freshen you up and help keep your temperature at bay.”

“Jean, you’re embarrassing me,” Javert said, casting a glance at Cosette which made the pink of his cheeks deepen. 

“You both should have plenty of time to freshen up after breakfast,” Cosette replied simply as she started bringing the food to the table.

“And what of you, Cosette?  It’s a big day, is it not?  You deserve some time to freshen up as well,” Javert said, his voice husky with congestion.

She smiled sweetly at him and nodded as she poured his tea.

“Then I shall do so now while you two eat,” she replied.  “Eggs, muffins, tea.  Do you require anything else?”

Javert quickly withdrew his handkerchief.  “KessPLET!” Javert sneezed violently, squeezing his eyes shut to press the dizziness out of his head.

Two pairs of concerned eyes observed Javert as he blew his nose and gathered his bearings. 

“We do not need to do this today, Javert,” Cosette said, coming up to him.

“No,” Javert answered, his strained voice strong with conviction.  “It is time.  There is no cause to continue to prolong the inevitable.”  He sniffed wetly and made his way to the table.

“In that case, I will go freshen up,” Cosette said, excusing herself and making her way upstairs.


	53. Lavendar Oil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius, Jean, and Javert discuss the rules of engagement.

Cosette smiled earnestly as she watched Marius and her papa discuss everything from the Bible to his family background, college, and his future plans for Cosette.  Things were going well and her anticipation of the day’s events relaxed the more they spoke. 

“Well the reason I came, of course was to share my grandfather’s best brandy,” he said, dipping into his pack and pulling out the bottle. 

Wordlessly, Cosette got up and retrieved three glasses.

“You are welcomed to have some brandy,” Marius offered, politely.

“No thank you,” she said, casting a nervous glance at Javert.  The man had not said more than two words since Marius had arrived.  Truth be told, she was surprised that he was awake at all.  She imagined that he was likely exhausted and she could tell by his complexion that his fever had not broken. 

Javert glared so hard at Marius that he envisioned that he could burn holes into the young man.  Truth be known, he already approved of Marius as a potential suitor for Cosette.  He was an educated, respectable young man who obviously cared for Cosette very deeply.  He watched as Marius’ gentle eyes followed Cosette around the room.  He was convinced that Marius saw Cosette’s inner beauty as well as her lovely face.  He had no doubt that she would be treated with even more love and respect than she received from himself and her father.  No, the real problem was that he was repressing symptoms.  Fever raged within him making him sleepy and dizzy.  More than once he had suppressed a few coughs when Marius and Jean were laughing.  He needed to look like the formidable Inspector Javert.  He could not afford for this schoolboy to see him as weak.

ValJean poured brandy for the three men.  He took a sip and instantly felt the cooling effects in his chest and sinuses.  His head felt more clear than it had in weeks.  After a second sip, his chest constricted and he pulled out his handkerchief to relieve himself of a few husky coughs.

“Indeed,” Marius said.  “I shall leave you with the bottle.  Drink it as you like.  I could hardly withhold such a treasure from my future father in law.”  Nervous eyes looked at ValJean for a long time.  “What I mean to say is that I would like your formal permission to court Cosette.”

The corners of ValJeans lips turned up with delight.  “Of course you may have it,” he said willingly, just as he had promised.  “However, should I hear of any mistreatment or the inability to care for her as she deserves, you will have me to contend with.”

“And myself as well,” Javert added.  His voice was raspy, but the edge of seriousness was the same.  He was not happy to part with Cosette, but just as ValJean knew, so did he that there came a time in every young woman’s life – God willing – that she was courted.  Cosette had proven herself a s a strong young woman and a very good caregiver.  He wished her every happiness and would take out all of his regret and anger about the Raoul situation on Marius if it was deemed necessary.

“I thank you… both,” Marius said, sharing the grin of sheer delight that Cosette was wearing.   He had not expected it to go so smoothly.  Of course, he had not expected to find the great Inspector Javert  keeping company with Cosette and her father.  Nor had he expected him to sit in on the courtship negotiations.  But, there he was. 

Marius held his hand out to Cosette, who squeezed it for a bit before letting go.  There was no cause for her to show displays of affection that could make either her papa or Javert uncomfortable.

“I do have one condition, that needs to happen before the wedding,” Javert rasped.

ValJean took a deep breath and tried to stay his nerves.  He was not pleased with the idea of Javert interfering.  Companion or not, there were some things that should only be handled between a young ladies romantic interest and her father.

“Name it,” Marius said, with a slight quiver in his voice.  He had heard Eponine and Gavroche speak of Inspector Javert.  They did not speak of him fondly, although Marius was fairly certain that Eponine’s parents and Gavroche’s propensity to run slightly afoul of the law had something to do with that.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Javert took a fairly large gulp of the brandy before him.  All at once everything seemed to rush with cold and clear.  It was as though he had taken a shot of whiskey.  Quickly, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stay the tingling in his head and throat.  He pulled his handkerchief out, certain that he would not be able to suppress his response for long.

“javert,” Cosette said, standing, but ValJean motioned for her to remain where she was.

“Javert, are you all right?” ValJean asked, silently praying that the man would be able to calm his symptoms.

“Hee-hah,” he breathed, tucking his nose into his handkerchief.

Cosette held her breath, hoping that he would be able to suppress the sneezes so obviously building up within him. 

“Heh-eh-Eschsssshhht!” he sneezed wetly.  “Heh-eh-eh-heh-Kesssppsshht!”  He ended the second equally as wet sounding sneeze with a stuffy blow and a liquid sniffle.  “Excuse me,” he breathed, his voice stuffy.  Tears had spilled down his cheeks and he set to dabbing those away.  His attempt to stifle his blushing worked about as well as his attempt to stifle his sneezes had.

“You are not well either,” Marius pointed out.  “Sir, is there something  I can get for you?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“No,” Javert responded gruffly, still trying to catch his breath.

Cosette stood up abruptly.   “Marius, my apologies.  It had been a long day.  Perhaps you should -.”

“No, Cosette,” ValJean cut in.  He got up slowly and went to Javert’s side.  “Why don’t you and Marius go for a walk?”

“But, papa,” she protested, concerned eyes falling on Javert.

“I will be fine,” Javert promised, doing his best to smile at her.  “I was just not expecting to have that reaction.  I see now why your grandfather uses it for heath purposes.”

“Yes, please, use as much as you’d like,” Marius offered, looking down uncomfortably. 

Confused, but unwilling to disobey her papa in front of company, Cosette lead Marius onto the grounds.  “My apologies for the scene.  Javert generally is more stoic than that,” she said as soon as they got far enough away from the house.

“Cosette, my love, I care not about that.  Illness happens.  Besides, I have your father’s consent to formally court you.  By this time next year we shall be married and living on my grandfather’s estate,” he responded excitedly. 

She tried to be as happy on the outside as she felt on the inside, but her concern for Javert grew.  She had tried to keep him from visiting all together, but he wouldn’t have it.  

Observant eyes took in Cosette’s expression.  “The Inspector… he is your father’s – companion?” he asked.

Cosette paused. No one had ever come right out and asked her.  She wasn’t certain what to say.  She knew that neither were foppish, but neither were they completely in hiding.  After all the Prefects and most of the administrators of Paris knew where they both lived and of course there had been rumors for years.   Besides, Marius would figure it out eventually  “Yes,” she replied simply.

She turned back towards the house.  “Listen, I really should check on Javert,” she said, walking back that way.

“Cosette,” Marius implored with a chuckle in his voice.  He took her hand and lead her towards the edge of their land.   “You do realize you live with the most powerful and well respected me in all of Paris,” he said slowly, as though he were teaching a small child.

She nodded.  She never thought of them as such thing though.  They were her papa and Javert, her kin, company, and friends.  They were the men who raised her.  To her, their status only meant that she could appreciate the finer things in life and that she would take extra care to protect them socially.

“Then don’t worry about it.  I mean, I know you have likely provided care for them in the past, but they don’t actually require your help.  They are smart enough to take care of each other and esteemed enough to call in a physician if more care is required.”

 _“… to think you can care for me as though you were Javert.”_  The statement rang in her ears and she finally understood. 

“They’re doing you a kindness by allowing you to take care of them.  But, they really are fine without you,” Marius continued.

“Yes, of course,” she said with a smile.  She trapsed ahead of Marius a few steps and started picking a few flowers that had not yet wilted in the cold.  After a few moments to collect herself she turned to him.  “Do you think their status will upset your grandfather?”

“No,” he responded.  “Most of society has figured it out.  But you,” he reached out and cupped her chin gently, “are so wonderful that people are willing to overlook just about anything.”  He leaned in and kissed her.

As their lips met she felt a fluttering in her stomach than made her feel as though she might burst into flame.   She looked at him intensely and smiled as their lips parted.  “Is that all you’re doing , Monsieur?  Humoring me?”

“No.  I love you!” he retorted.  Why was she being so difficult?

“As do they,” she responded.  “They...” she thought back to Toulon Prison.  “They would do anything for me.  They are my family and protectors.  And I won’t have you speaking ill of them.”

Marius’ look softened.  He loved that she was so family oriented and had her own opinions.  These were qualities that made a good mother and he couldn’t wait until they were having children of their own.

“I do wish to head back though,” she said, walking towards the house.  “Both papa and Javert need rest and Javert already mentioned wanting to speak to you.”

Realizing that Cosette was not going to relax while her custodians were ill, he relinquished the idea of spending more time with her.  There were priorities and proprieties and she obviously had hers already set. 

He grasped her hand and rubbed his thumb over her hand as they walked. 

“Do not bring up the revolution with papa.  Javert already knows a storm is brewing, but papa will only worry.”

“Cosette,” Marius said, a smile playing on his lips.  “If Javert knows, it is likely that your father also knows.  Little escapes his watch,” he complimented. 

“Be that as it may, it will not stay his nerves to find out that you are so tightly involved.”

“My darling, he saw me those days in Paris.  He knows.”  He chuckled a bit at her nativity. 

She had not thought of things that way.  Her heart twisted nervously.  There was so much about the world that she did not understand. But, her family – that she thought she understood. 

As they came up to the porch, Javert stepped outside.  He looked well enough, but she wondered what had transpired to make him seem so well.  His pallor was much better than it had been and despite a slight blush in his cheeks and his chapped nose, he looked nearly healthy.   It wasn’t sitting right with her.  So little of the day was.

“Marius, may I have a word?” he asked his voice just a touch hoarse, but still firm.  “Cosette, go inside with your father,” he directed, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Of course.  Marius, thank you for stopping by.”  A glistening smile rose on her lips.  “I will see you again soon.”

“Very soon, my love.  I promise,” he responded, taking her hand and kissing it.

After Cosette stepped inside Javert sized the boy up.  He had received new intelligence that the society boys were going to lead the revolution against the King, but not when.  While he was certain Cosette could procure that information for him, there was still information that he needed to know.  “Marius,” he started, his words measured carefully.  “I am not an unreasonable man.  The favor I ask of you will not infringe on your… uprising.”  As he said the word ‘uprising’ his eyes flashed angrily.  To go against the King was to go against the law and he could not abide by that.  But, after the argument he had just had with ValJean, he knew he had to make concessions in order to make Cosette happy. 

_“You cannot demand that he not join the Revolution,” ValJean had warned._

_“It will put her in danger.  If you don’t feel the need to protect her, then I must pick up your slack,” Javert argued._

_“It has nothing to do with her life being in danger.  It has everything to do with your sense of order.  Don’t try to fool me, Javert.  I know where your priorities lie,” ValJean retorted._

_“Who will provide for her if he dies?” Javert struggled to make ValJean see reason._

_“We will.  Or are you the one that wants her gone so badly?  Are you the one who has been pushing her away?”_

_“Of course not!” Javert yelled, slamming his hand against the wall.  This was all so tiring.  All he wanted was to protect Cosette and go to bed.  “Listen Jean, you vowed to protect that girl when you rescued her as a child.  When you brought me into her life, you knew I came with certain … restrictions and difficulties.”_

_“I never assumed it would be this difficult!” ValJean nearly bellowed._

_“You – you – yu-huh-hoo – KesPLETCH!”  The wet sneeze was caught in his open hand, but did not deter his argument.  “You knew when you made me a custodian of her that I would do my best to protect her.  It is my job to protect her as It is my job to protect you and I will do so to the best of my abilities.”_

_“You will not do anything to compromise the slight hope she has of marriage.  Promise me, Javert, that whatever your plotting will not cause her more harm.”  The poor thing had been through enough._

_Javert looked out the window to where his angel was kissing the man who she would be betrothed to.  “I promise,” he whispered._

“I am not asking you to set aside your revolutionary ideas.  I only need you to get me behind the barricade.  I’ll be in plain clothes and I promise I won’t connect you to me in any way. I am not trying to infiltrate only limit the amount of deaths.”  At Marius’ dubious expression he sighed deeply.  “You are still so young.  You do not remember the last revolution.  I do.  Monsieur le Maire does.  We are concerned for you, lad.  We don’t want you to make Cosette a widow just to make her your wife.  Let me behind the barricade and you may just have a chance to survive.”

Marius considered the proposition for a moment.  “You will not know me?”

“I will not be Inspector Javert.  Just a man joining the cause.”

With a nod of his head, Marius agreed.  “For Cosette’s future happiness, anything,” he said as he shook Javert’s hand.


	54. Buttercups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette takes care of an ill Javert and he tries to get to the root of her nightmares.

Javert sniffed thickly.  As had been the trend the last few days, his fever was going up as the sun was going down.  He was pleased with how well thing had gone with Marius although he was still upset about his and ValJean’s argument.  He had refused to tell either he or Cosette what he had asked of Marius.  Cosette seemed to take it in stride, but ValJean…

_“You are not her father!” ValJean yelled at him.  “You do not get to keep secrets about her future – especially ones made with a young man with such a high ranking in society.  You could destroy everything with one cold look.  Cosette has been more than forgiving of your social awkwardness, but this is not a place where I can let it be.”_

_“It has nothing to do with /her/,” Javert assured him, exhaustion leeching through his body and causing him to have to sit down.  His chest felt tight, but his heart light.  He was excited to finally have an ‘in’ to the other side of the revolution.  Of course, he would have to go himself and that was worrisome. But, he trusted that Marius would do anything to keep Cosette happy.  He knew he was taking a gamble, but he loved being undercover.  He knew that if he could keep the revolutionaries off their game that the army would easily overtake them.  He hoped for a mostly peaceful overtaking.  The thought of more deaths for the same cause, which would likely have the same outcome, churned his stomach and caused him to shake._

_“It has everything to do with her! She deserves to be happy.  You don’t get to take that away from her!” ValJean continued to rage._

_“I did not take anything away from her.  I’m …” he sighed deeply.  “I am making certain that Marius does not die.  I have aligned myself with the revolutionaries,” he whispered._

_ValJean’s look softened and confusion crossed his sharp features.  “You are going rogue?” he asked, coming to sit down near Javert._

_“No…” Insecurity shone in his brown eyes as he looked at his companion._

_Realization dawned on him. “You are going undercover,” he stated._

_Javert nodded.  “If this can be handled peacefully.  If I can get them to surrender.  As long as I’m in there and visible, the army will mostly shoot superfluous shots.  It can’t be like last time, Jean,” he admitted, softly.  Even though he had been a child of the Revolution, he saw the devastation that it had on the common folk and the economy.  Later, he had seen the lasting effects on the army, the nobles, everyone. He could not let it happen again.  Not again._

_“I can’t do this right now,” ValJean said, standing abruptly and going into his study._

Javert counted his lucky stars that Cosette had not asked.  She trusted him.  That much was certain.  Now all he had to do was keep Marius alive and neutralize this revolution.  His own life was forfeit.  He did not expect to make it through this revolution alive. 

“Here,” Cosette said, bringing him a bit of soup, some bread with cheese and jam and some tea.  “It’s a light supper, but hopefully enough to keep your strength up.”  Her voice was calm and nurturing. 

He looked her over.  Somehow he never noticed what a lovely young lady she had become.  She was truly a sight to behold.  Her caring and nurturing nature and her ability to put those in her care before herself was second to none.  She would be a wonderful wife and a doting mother.  His eyes glistened a bit when he thought of the grandchildren he would never know.  “I never thanked you for all the care you have provided for me over the years.”

She smiled at him, humored.  Placing a hand on his shoulder, she sat down next to him.  “You never had to.  But, you are welcome to it.  Any time, care, any _thing_ that I can provide is yours – always.”   She paused before adding, “Even when I have a family of my own.”  She knew Javert and her father too well.  She was already concerned that when she became a wife, they would pull away from her.  She didn’t want to fall out of their favor because they wanted her to have her own life.  They were part of her life and she intended to make certain they remained so.

“I hear you crying at night,” he admitted softly, taking a spoonful of his soup.   “Will you do so when you are married?”

Her breath caught in her chest.  “You’re not supposed to hear that,” he admitted.

“What is it?”

“I have nightmares.  Silly thing really.  A woman my age having nightmares. “

“Of what?” he asked, sniffing as the steam loosened up his congestion.

She took a deep breath.  “Raoul,” she whispered.

“He cannot hurt you any longer.” Javert stated, taking a bite of bread.

“No, but I think of the conversations he and I had and how easily that could have ended very differently.”

Javert nodded.  He had thought about how differently that could have ended as well.  “You father says that you didn’t think we would come for you.”

She shrugged.  “You knew that.”

“We will always be there for you, Cosette.  We will always come to get you.”

“How did you know where to look?” Her eyes were pleading.  She knew so little about their pasts, but she wanted to.  She longed to know what had made the men she loved who they were.

“I used to serve as a guard there.  Raoul was one of the convicts,” he admitted. 

She nodded gently.  “But, he knew papa.  How did he know him?  Was papa a guard there too?”

Javert felt caught, terrified.  He could not answer that question.  He would not lie and knew that he could not tell the truth.  As if by Divine Providence, he started to cough.  Cheeks puffed out as the coughs became harsher and deeper.

Startled, Cosette, pulled Javert close as though he was a child.  To her delight and her horror, he pulled her into a hug and held her close as he rode out the more violent of the paroxysm.

“Shhh, it’s okay.  I’ve got you,” she soothed, pushing his sweat soaked bangs off his forehead as he pulled away. 

His wrist rushed to his nose and mouth as he took a congested gasp.  “Heh-Ketchuhm!”  Quickly, he turned away from her, unfurling his handkerchief and relieving his nose.   Afterwards, he slumped forward with exhaustion, resting his elbows on his knees.

She carefully encircled her arm around his back.  “Come on.  Up you get.  Let’s get you back in bed and I’ll get papa to keep you company,” she said, helping him to his feet.

“I’m already here,” ValJean’s voice was soft as he entered the room.  Strong hands grasped Javert and helped him stand.  He leaned down close to the other man’s ear.  “Do you need assistance getting to bed?” he whispered as Cosette set to picking up Javert’s supper.

“Not as ill as all that.  Just had a bit of distemper caught.”  His voice was becoming hoarse and it was apparent that he needed rest.

“I’ll be up in a few hours with dinner,” she said as the two men left the room.  She could hear her father’s heavy footfalls on the stairs and was saddened to hear how soft Javerts were.  The man obviously was no better than he had been the day before.  However, he need to go to work the next day.  She vowed that she would do whatever it took to make certain that he would be able to live up to his reputation.

 


	55. Petunias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ValJean deals with the prospect of Javert going undercover. Then he deals with the prospect of Cosette's suicide. Both Javert and ValJean start to feel better.

_Undercover_. 

The word rang in his mind like the tolling of church bells.

_Undercover._

ValJean lay in bed watching Javert breathing heavily.  The deep snores that emanated from his ill companion were deep and interrupted, but the man continued to sleep.  For this, ValJean was deeply pleased. 

It had taken them over an hour to make Javert comfortable enough to rest, let alone relaxed enough for his symptoms to subside in order to let him sleep.  ValJean wished that Javert did not have to go to work the following day.  But, if the next revolution was as close as he was letting on, there were a great many things for ValJean to contemplate – not the least of which being Javerts’ employ or Cosettes’ marriage proposal. 

_Undercover._

The word sent shivers down ValJean’s spine.  Even in the best of health, he worried when Javert went undercover.  The criminal element knew who he was and had for a long time.  The man was good in a fight and far more resilient than he ever thought.  But, neither of them were in their twenties or even thirties anymore.  They had aged.  Cosette had become a woman before their eyes. 

_Undercover._

He would not be able to protect Javert.  Typically when the man went undercover, he would innocuously be in the area.  But, he knew his loyalty had to be to Cosette.  Javert may have been a child of the first Revolution, but ValJean remembered it.  He remembered the beheadings, the killings, the rampages.  He remembered the economy getting worse and the defection of the son of the Marquis de Lafayette to support the English Colonies in America.  He could not let Cosette see that.  He had to protect her. 

He knew what he would do. He would take her to England – Javert would simply have to meet them when he could.  A chill raced up his arms.  He did not like the solution, but he knew it was what he had to do.

A woman’s muffled scream roused him from his thoughts.  “Cosette?” he called, loud enough to be heard, but hopefully not loud enough to wake the man sleeping at his side.

“Stop,” Javert mumbled before burrowing beneath the covers a bit more. 

“My apologies,” he mumbled, running a gentle hand over the side of Javert’s head.  “Rest.”  He dropped a gentle kiss onto Javerts head. 

Javert stirred a bit.

“Shh Shh Shh,” ValJean soothed.  “Rest now.  I’ll go see what’s keeping Cosette.”

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. 

“Cosette?” he called again, as he closed the bedroom door.

Heavy steps thudded down the hallway as he looked in her bedroom.  It wasn’t like her not to answer when he called. 

Her bedroom was empty.  “Dear God,” he whispered, as he rushed down the stairs.  “Cosette?” he called louder, not caring if he woke Javert.  His heart thudded in his chest. 

He heard a creak coming from the parlor and followed the noise.  “No!” he cried out as he came into the room and saw Cosette, hanging from a center beam.  Her neck was torqued at an odd angle and her face was a ghastly light gray. 

He rushed to her side, standing on whatever furniture he could – he cared not what it was – in order to get her down.  “Cosette no, why?  Cosette!” he yelled at her.  Her skin was so cold.   He ran a hand up and down her arm, as though he was warming it.  His eye fell to an envelope on the floor.

Papa & Javert

Gasps started making their way out of him as his breath hitched.  “No…” the word came out as a strangled gasp and he stepped back onto the floor to retrieve it. 

He turned the fine paper over in his hand.  He remembered giving the stationary set to Cosette for her birthday the prior year.  He blinked away tears as he was struck by the cruel irony of such a letter being written by something he had gifted her.

Trembling fingers opened the fine envelope.  Tears sprang to his eyes as soon as he saw her penmanship – soft and strong, just like her.

Papa,

I know that a revolution is coming, and I know that Marius will fight and Javert will fight for peace and the King as his employ and sense of balance compels him.  But, convince Javert to take my ticket and go to England with you.  My life is forfeit for your happiness, just as yours had always suffered for mine. 

My apologies for being such a troublesome daughter and for making you go back to Toulon Prison.  You should have left me to drown.  My mind can never leave that place, that laugh, that man…

Take Javert and be happy.  Pretend I never existed.  Let me fade into your past like your past before me.  Make Javert happy.  Let him make you happy.  But don’t waste your thoughts on me. 

~~Your daughter~~

Sincerely,

Cosette

Harsh sobs escaped ValJean.  He had been afraid of this.  Afraid that she was holding her feelings of what had happened inside.  Javert had assured him that the two of them had talked and that she was healing as well as could be expected.

He squatted, balling his fists against his eyes as anguished sobs wracked his body. 

“COSETTE!”  ValJean sat straight up in bed, sweat pouring down his chest and back and intermingling with tears on his face.  The room was dark, the sun having set some time before.  Husky coughs strained into a closed fist.

Beside him, Javert moved slightly, opening his eyes with a groan.  “Used to be my name you called,” he mused sleepily, throwing Valjeans words back at him.  He snuffled thickly and coughed harshly.

Uncertain of what was real and what was a dream, he looked to Javert for answers.  “How long has it been?” he asked, the tremor still in his voice.

“A few months, I guess.  You don’t have nightmares as often as you used to,”Javert said, answering the question of how long it had been since ValJea woke up calling for him.

He couldn’t believe that he would ever stop seeing the sight of her hanging there.  He imagined that it would haunt him for the rest of his life.  He felt as though a rock had settled in his chest.  He hitched a breath.  “I’m sorry I woke you.  i… I’ll just be downstairs,” he said, getting out of bed slowly.

Javert blew his nose stuffily, trying to clear the fuzz from his brain.  “What’s the matter, Jean?  Tell me what’s troubling you.”

“Same thing I suppose,” he said, figuring that he was likely always distraught about the loss of Cosette.  “I didn’t realize that I had failed Cosette so completely.  For her to turn her back on God and despair until she took her own…”  he breath hitched, “her own life.”   He tried to repress the sobs, but they barreled out of him.  He bent at the waist and caught the tears in his palms.

Javert felt as though someone had replaced his insides with ice.  “Jean?  Say that again.  That last part.  What do you mean Cosette took her own life?  Cosette?”  The words were spoken quietly, as he was not certain that he had heard the man correctly.  “Cosette!” he called, as loudly as his strained voice would let him. 

ValJean could see her words floating before his eyes.  “All she ever wanted was for us to be happy, you know,” he said, sadly.  He recalled the way he made her feel unwanted – unloved.  It was only for a short period, so he wondered how long before that there had been slights and things that made her feel discontent or at least doubt her belonging in the house he worked so hard to make her home.

“Why are you speaking of her in the past tense?” Javert asked, rummaging under his pillow for his handkerchief.  He listened for her steps and hoped that she was asleep or outside the range of his voice. “What has happened?”  He brought the handkerchief up to his face and sneezed stuffily into it.

“Bless,” ValJean said lightly.   He rubbed his hand up and down Javert’s leg.  He was lucky to have been able to keep him through everything.  He wasn’t certain which he would have wanted to lose – if he had to choose. 

_To think that you could care for me like Javert._

The cruel words rang in his ears.  A forceful cough ripped from his chest.

_I won’t burden the two of you forever._

Her voice, so insecure, was golden like the wings of an angel. She wasn’t ever a burden – not ever.  Things would have been better for her with a mother around – someone to stay her insecurities… someone to notice that she may have them…

 _And then I’ll know the most important person in my life is safe_.

He had been speaking of Javert then – and Cosette knew.  She knew that he loved Javert more than he loved her.  He wasn’t certain if it was true, but he realized with a heavy heart that it was what he had lead her to believe.  And she had believed it.  She believed it until the day she ended her life.

“Hm?” he asked, looking up at Javert, barely aware that the man had asked him a question.

Too quickly for Javert to respond, a wet sneeze detonated from his senses, spraying the front of ValJean’s shirt.  A miserable moan escaped, Javerts throat and he coughed to relieve the tickle it had left in his throat.  “My apologies,” he grumbled as soon as he was able.

“Goodness, Javert.   That sounded like a bad one,” Cosette said as she came into the room, her hands laden with a tea tray with several cups of tea and two bowls of soup.   She set the tray down on the dresser and went to tend to Javert. 

ValJean rubbed his palms into his eyes and looked at her as though he was hallucinating.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked, her voice soft and tone gentle.

It was a far cry from the old school mam who had yelled at him for being sick as a child.  After such a prolonged illness he had no idea what he had done in order to deserve such a wonderful ward.  “Not noticeably,” he answered, suppressing a stuffy sneeze into his handkerchief.

“Don’t do that.  You’ll hurt yourself,” she said, pressing her palm to his forehead. 

“I’ll thank you not to do that,” he snapped, shaking his head away from her.  She smiled and pulled her hand back.  “Well your fever has lowered quite a bit.

He brow furrowed in concern when she looked at her papa, though.  “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching over Javert to clasp his hand in her own. 

“You’re alive,” he whispered breathlessly.  He clamped his hand over his mouth as he coughed deeply.

“Of course I am papa.  You saw to that.”

She brought him a cup of tea, waiting until the coughs subsided to hand it over.  She brushed his sweaty bangs off of his forehead. 

Like Javert before him, he flinched away from her touch.  She smiled at the couple, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.  Her men were getting better.  She wouldn’t be needed around the house as much.  She could get back to her parties and teas.  She could get back to being a lady of means who was going to be courted by a man of fortune. She couldn’t help but feel sad though.  It was nice to support the men who had always supported her.

“Care to speak of your nightmare?  Perhaps about Toulon?” she asked, fishing for his connection to the prison.

“I don’t speak of those nightmares,” he whispered without thinking.

“So you were there… with Javert?” she pressed.

He flashed her a quick look of fear.  “I don’t speak of this.  You don’t know of what you speak and you don’t truly want these answers.”  He turned towards Javert.  “Take the tea.  We’re not hungry.”  He smothered a few barking coughs into his shoulder.

“You must keep your strength up.  Besides, perhaps if you told me of your past – that time before me, I would have known things.  Like who Raoul was.”

“Get out.”  Javert’s voice was cold – angry.  “Get out.  I will not allow you to press your father for answers that he does not owe you.”

“I – I just want to know about your past.  You keep so much to yourself.  You don’t have to anymore.  I’m not a child.  I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, Cosette,” ValJean whispered, keeping his head bowed down and away from her – lest she see how shaken up he was by the request.

“Get out.” Javert insisted.

“I’m going,” she said, aware that she had over-stepped.  She pressed a kiss to her hand and touched her father’s shoulder.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Get out!” Javert bellowed, shaking with rage.  He hated to see his companion so upset and he could feel him shaking through the covers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered breathily, fleeing from the room.  She didn’t wish to go to her bedroom like a chastised child.  Rather, she went outside and sat in one of the chairs on the porch.  She needed time away – time alone.  She need time to think.

Both men winced as she slammed the door to the bedroom and startled as they heard the front door slam.  Javert was out of bed in an instant.  He closed his eyes and saw his angel with wings.  If she disappeared again there was no guarantee that he would find her this time.  Stoic and calm, he walked to the bedroom door, throwing it open and walking into the sick room.

“Was it worth it?” ValJean asked, coming up behind him and reaching an arm around his waist.

“Was what worth it?” javert asked, drawing open the curtains and looking to see if Cosette went to the barn.  He didn’t see her at all and he hoped that she was simply taking some time on the porch.  He knew she liked to do such things when she thought the house was asleep.

“Chasing her away?”  His heart did flip-flops.  What if his dream was a warning of things to come?  What if he woke up and Cosette really was dead?  Could he live with himself?  He guessed not.

Javert’s trembling heart calmed as he saw the light eminate from the porch.  She was safe.  “I had to protect you.  Your secrets – your past.”

“No, you didn’t.  She has asked before.  It’s a circular argument.  Breaking her heart… isn’t that how all this began?”

“I merely chastised her,” he corrected, making his way back to bed.  He couldn’t believe how exhausted he was.  He knew that chastising her was how all of this began.  It was difficult to love two people so much, especially when they were at odds.  He thought about that as he climbed into bed.  Cosette had loved them both when they were at odds, wounded, and ill.  “Bah,” he huffed, as he started to regret the way he had treated her.

“If she kills herself tonight, I’m leaving you,” ValJean said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?  Repeat that.”

“My dream was that she had killed herself.  I woke up thinking it was still a reality.”  He choked on his words and sniffed.  Chesty coughs worked their way out. 

Javert regarded him seriously.  “You dreamed she died?”

“Hung herself… the letter said that she wanted us to be happy and that she thought we’d be happiest without her.”

Javert choked out a strangled gasp.  Suddenly the guilt engulfed him and set his heart aflame.  He would not be able to sleep until he spoke to her.  “She’s alive.” 

“For now.  But, what if she hangs herself when we fall to sleep?”  He ran his hand over the bridge of his nose. 

“We should just tell her the truth Jean.  After Raoul… she needs to know. “

“No, she’ll be disgraced in society.  My past must remain buried.”

“At what cost?  She almost lost her life.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” ValJean snapped. 

“Do you want me to go talk to her?” Javert asked, yawning widely.

“No, I’ll fix your mess.  You go to sleep.”

“Humph!” he replied, getting out of bed.  “What say you we both fix this mess?”  A sneezy expression crossed his face.  “HEP-Kessh!  Heh-huh-eh-guh… HEH-TUSHHHA!”  A few husky coughs made their way out and he dreaded going to work in the morning.

ValJean rolled his eyes, but pulled on his trousers.  Waiting for Javert to do the same, he thought about the horror that he had lived with for a few minutes after waking up.  It was horrible, the thought that Cosette had died and the two of them were living safe in England.  He felt as though a piece of his soul went numb.  Although he couldn’t imagine her turning her back on God that way, he wouldn’t have been able to see her going off with a relative stranger because she thought he came to take her away – and sent by Javert no less.

When Javert was ready, they made their way downstairs and out onto the porch.

Cosette was looking at the stars.  The porch light cast eerie shadows over her face, giving her cheeks a yellow hue and making her eyes seem very dark.

Javert took a sharp breath in as it reminded him of the men in Toulon Prison sick with yellow fever.  No, his angel wasn’t sick of body.  He hoped that she wasn’t sick of heart either.  He hardened himself a bit, ready for her wrath again.  He was old enough to be her father for goodness sake. There was no reason for him to be so emotional or temperamental around her.

She looked at the two men, eyebrows raised in silent questioning.

“We’re fine,” ValJean answered, coming and sitting in the chair beside her. 

“Papa, why do you treat me like a child?  I want to know of your nightmares – your past.  Please let me help you the way you’ve helped me,” she implored, looking at Javert warily.

“Cosette, why do you wish to know of times long past?  It is of no consequence what I was back there.”

“Raoul and Javert both said you knew them in Toulon Prison.  Were you a guard?  A prisoner?  What tie did Raoul have to you?”

“It’s not important.  I’ve told you that before.  Javert is my companion and one of your caregivers.  That is all you need to know.”

“But, I want to know,” she insisted.

“You don’t.  You don’t know what you don’t know and it’s a problem.  But, I’m telling you that it’s an answer that you do not want.  And, it’s one that I wish not to give,” he snapped.

Her fingers gracefully pulled up the cuff of his shirt revealing the tattoo of the numbers he was given.  “They mean something, I know.”

Slowly, shamefully, he pulled his arm away from her.  “Please don’t,” he implored. 

“Cosette!” Javert snapped, causing them both to jump.  “He wishes not to tell you.  You ought to respect his wishes for privacy just as he respects yours.”

“I just wish to know who you were that turned you into such a complex and wonderful person,” she said softly as she placed her hands in her lap.

“Someday I will tell you all that you wish to know and more,” he assured her.  He reached for her hand and kissed it gently. 

“Yes, papa,” she whispered, gazing back at the stars.

 

 


	56. Snowberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette gives Javert a piece of information that he needs to deal with.

Colors faded in and out of sight nearly as much as he was losing the capability of hearing.  Javert stood at attention, glaring at the young men under his employ.  The news of the building revolution caused a morning long meeting.  Although most men chose to sit down, he needed to keep his constant vigilance.  The leather stock which was tied snugly around his neck seemed to be shrinking as his fever caused him to sweat within it.  He thanked God that his wool uniform was warm.  Although it caused him to sweat, it also kept anyone from seeing the reality of his current condition.  If Jean or Cosette were there, they would certainly notice.  But to the average observer, he seemed to have fully recovered and returned to his formidable, foreboding self.

He wasn’t certain if his fever or his will was breaking.  But, he knew he could not pass out.  He could not show weakness.  They expected more from him.  And they deserved only his best.

He had stayed his sniffles and choked down his coughs, but it did not help when his sinuses exploded in intense prickling.  He cleared his throat, pulling out his stock slightly.  He needed to excuse himself, but he could not leave the meeting any sooner than he could be symptomatic in it. 

Quickly, he plucked the handkerchief that Cosette stuck in his sleeve as they arrived in Paris.  He felt bad.  He had insisted that she stay in the carriage and not go anywhere without him.  He knew she would likely go shopping anyway or maybe find a nice café to sit in.  But, he didn’t like it.  Jean had insisted that Cosette go to Paris with him.  Thinking that she was going to see Marius, no doubt, she had agreed to go.  But, the fact of the matter was that she was a woman of means in a city about to revolt because the average person had none.  Jean’s concern for him was noted, but truly it was his job to look after Cosette.  Attending a meeting in the station of police while he was ‘in the carriage’ or off who knew where, was not protecting her.

Two quick coughs worked their way out, which he caught in the handkerchief.  But, the did not bring any relief, instead causing the tickle spread down his throat.  He sniffed quickly, which did not help.  “Puh-Shhtt!” he sneezed harshly.  He was able to breath just long enough to realize that Cosette had infused the handkerchief with lavender, before he gave his nose a congested blow. 

He forced his shoulders to not slump as neither the sneeze nor the blow offered him any relief.  He vaguely heard a few blessings, but only cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. 

Finally, the meeting broke for lunch and he walked as quickly as he could balance towards the door.  He hoped that he would not be stopped by anybody, but life was not that lucky – at least not his.

“Greetings, Inspector,” a young officer named Louis, said enthusiastically.  He stepped in front of  Javert, causing him to have to pause quickly to keep from crashing into the man. 

Javert gave him a curt nod, but said nothing.  His throat hurt and he wanted to go find a cup of tea.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.  What with this revolution about, we’ll need you leading us if we’re to defeat the enemy.”

“They’re school boys.  They know not what they do,” Javert responded gruffly.  A cold heat filled his stomach and he felt his sweating begin anew.  He was starting to feel nauseous, but he didn’t want to rush the young man.  There was a decorum to follow and if this young man was bold enough to talk to him, he could be patient enough to pay attention.

“Perhaps.  But, I look forward to crushing them.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Javert said.  After a pause, he nodded at the young man again and pushed past him. 

The cool air from outside hit him like a burst.  Instantly, he felt his airways clear and took a deep breath.  He was about to wonder where Cosette went when she appeared in front of him.  Her cheeks and nose were pink and her hands shook in their pale blue gloves.

“My dear, you’re shaking what is it?” he asked, trying to focus on her.  His world seemed to be blurry and there was something akin to the world tilting or spinning like a top – or perhaps a mixture of the two that made it very hard for him to hear his own words.

“We need to talk,” she said, looping her arm into his.  “Come, I found a small café about two blocks off.  There is a corner table that is being held and there is news that I need to tell you.”

Loathe as he was to walk anywhere, he trusted her not to let him fall.  He sniffed wetly and coughed a bit.  Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked with her to a café that he knew some of his men frequented, but he had never gone to himself. 

As promised, she lead him to a quiet corner in the back, partially blocked by crates and barrels.  The girl knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.  He couldn’t help but notice her fine features and caring eyes.  Were he younger and so inclined, he could see himself considering her as an acceptable mate.  So many of her father’s good qualities and quite an attractive female on top of it.

“First, how are you faring?” she asked, sitting down across from him.

As if in answer, his sinus’ exploded in a fit of tickles.  “Heh-Pusshhtt!” he sneezed, heavily, only barely getting the handkerchief to his face in time.  “Puh-Ssshhhtt! Eh-Kessshh!”  Stiffing the sneezes did nothing to relieve the tickle.  Panting, he opened his eyes.  Cosette was gone. 

His heart leapt in utter terror, as he lost control again.  “Hup-Ketsshoo!”  The sneeze tore from his chest and set him off on a bit of a coughing spell, which he suppressed to the best of his abilities.  Finally unable to contain the fit any longer, he coughed harshly and blew his nose fully, thankful that some of the congestion was finally releasing.

Cosette came back to the table with a cup of tea and bowl of soup.  “Here. Eat up,” she said, gently. 

“Thank you,” he replied.  His voice was gravely, but he worked hard to keep the exhaustion out of it.  “Now, please tell me what is troubling you,” he asked as he ate greedily.

She smiled as she watched him eat.  While the fit had been more uncontrolled than she knew he would prefer being, it was also productive.  The fact that he had an appetite and was eating, made her heart sing.

“I have news that is not pleasant, but I would prefer you hear it from me,” she said, her ice blue eyes narrowed seriously. 

He nodded and took a sip of his tea, feeling the warmth fill him.  Truly the young woman before him was a marvel.

“General LeMarque has passed on,” she continued, her voice nearly a whisper.

He paused as the warmth that had just began to fill him disappeared like a gust of wind.  “Excuse me?” he asked, buying himself time to process the information.

“You heard me.  But, that’s not what you need to know,” she said, suddenly sounding very much like her father.  “The barricades will go up on the day of his funeral service – the day after tomorrow.  There will be three.”

Javert held up his hand, indicating for her to pause.  “How do you know al of this?” he asked, draining his teacup.

“You need not know that information,” she said.

He blinked.  How very revolutionary of her.  “Indeed I do need to know.  I need to know that it is true before I take it to my superiors.”

“Take it to your superiors.  I’m surprised they didn’t all ready speak of the death of General LeMarque.  And Marius told me himself about the barricades.  They are rallying around the death.”

Ever so gently, Javert took her still shaking hands in his own.  “I thank you for this Cosette,” he replied before leaning back in quiet contemplation.  The police were not ready to move on the revolutionaries yet.  They would need to call in the army to squelch the barricades.  He wondered what could be done to stop the revolution.  What did these school boys feasibly want to happen?  They were mostly from good families – did they want their own wealth distributed?  And how far would that go?

Quite used to Javert’s ways, Cosette got him another cup of tea, sipping her own as he contemplated.


	57. Gillyweed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert, ValJean, and Cosette spend their last night before the barricade together.

_One day more._

Dinner was uncomfortably quiet as they dined in the formal dining room.  Concerned eyes darted from Cosette to Javert and back to his plate.  His family had so much to lose.  His daughter could lose her finance.  His companion could lose his life.  ValJean cleared his throat, but said nothing.

Cosette focused mainly on her food.  She was concerned about Javert.  Of course she was.  How could she not be?  The man was only just recovering from his illness and injury.  Even now, he was chewing a little louder than usual in order to compensate for the sniffling and occasional cough.  She knew that he had to be scared and hurting.  Both because he was responsible for a city that was about to erupt into revolution and because of the loss of General LeMarque.   Caring blue eyes slide over to her father, who seemed to be pointedly ignoring both of them.

“Did Javert tell you?” she asked, keeping the question purposefully vague. 

“He did.  We’ll pack for England tonight,” ValJean responded quietly.

“England?!  But, Marius – “

“Has made his own choice.  You do not remember the first Revolution, thank God.  We’re packing tomorrow and will leave for the coast the day of the funeral.”

“All of us?” she hoped. 

“No,” ValJean breathed, sadly.  With a deep breath he looked at Javert.  “Javert must stay to keep the city safe.”

“There are far too few passenger ships going to England.  People know what’s about to happen.  People of means are leaving.  I have gotten the two of you an escort to the coast.  You’ll be able to get a ship from there.  Don’t come back until it is safe.”  Javert voice was cold and monotone, as though he was saying the words but didn’t mean them.

“No,” Cosette stated, putting down he fork.

“No?” her father repeated, his tone broaching a warning.

“You heard me.  I’m staying.  I’ll be here for Marius and you two will be safe.”

Cold dread filled ValJean as he flashed back to his dream.  Was it a warning?  Was it another message from Fantine?

“But, papa, I’m engaged.  I need to stay with my husband,” she retorted.

“You do not,” ValJean snapped.  

“Cosette, listen to your father. It’s not safe for you here.” Javert snapped.

Tears sprang to her eyes.  “And it’s not safe for you either.  I won’t leave without you Javert.”

Javert slammed his hand on the table, causing the other two to jump.  “You will listen to your father.  This is not… is not…” he turned away from the table and sneezed violently, causing him to pause.  After a shaky sigh he continued, “This is not up for debate.”

“No, you’re not well enough,” she insisted.  “You take my ticket.  If it is as bad as the last, then you two will be needed to help rebuild.  It’s all right.  There are more important things.  The police, mayor, businesses – they’re more important.  You can rebuild.  You must get out,” she insisted, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“Cosette, we are not going to leave you behind,”Javert said, with a shake of his head.  In all honesty, he was touched and proud.  Touched that she wanted him to be safe.  Proud that she understood how bad things could get. 

“But, you’ll be happier that way,” she stated.  “The two of you will be together. And, one way or the other, I’ll be with Marius.  It’s the romantic way.”

ValJean felt frozen.  She still thought they would be happier without her.  The damage was done.  It ran deep.  “Cosette… I can’t leave.  I would never be able to live with myself.”

“No more romance novels for you,” Javert stated.

“Then we stay as a unit.  We either leave as a unit or we stay as a unit.  I don’t care which.  And if it’s about tickets, I’ll make certain that Javert has mine.”  With that she got up and left the table.

After she had gone upstairs the two men looked at each other.  The conversation had not gone as they planned.  “We stay then, “ValJean stated.  “I know you have to work.  And I would never keep you from it.”   After a pause he added, “What is the likelihood that the revolution will come this far?”

“Slim.  They don’t have a fighting chance.  The only have a surrendering chance.  I’ll still need to bring someone in for the magistrates to deal with.  But, they won’t make it out of the city.”

ValJean nodded.  Then she was as safe as she would get, whether here or in England.  He didn’t want to, but for the sake of his family, he would acquiesce and stay.  Knowing that Javert would not be coming home after work the next day, he got up.  His chair scraped against the wooden floor, making a high pitched squeak.  But, he didn’t care.  Fear gripped his heart – his soul.  His partner, his daughter, and his daughter’s future all hung in the balance of the revolution.

“You’ll not bring in Marius.  You can’t take her future,” ValJean threatened.

“I’ll take whomever is still living,” Javert said seriously. 

Fear consumed ValJean and bile rose in his throat.  His whole future was out of his control and in Javert’s.  It was like being in Toulon again.  His wishes were forfeit for the happiness of his family.  “I’ll be upstairs,” he said, giving Javert a dejected look.

Javert sighed as he heard ValJean ascend the stairs.  He didn’t expect the man to take the revolution well, but if it was their last night together, they would have to spend it together.  No anger.  No yelling.  No dramatics.  Just love.  Javert had never expected to be loved or to have a family.  He had to let them know what he really thought of them.  This wasn’t the time for cowardice anger.  This was the time for him to face his life and prepare for his future.

He walked up the stairs slowly, the thud of his boots echoing in the hallway.  He had never realized how eerily quiet the house could get.  He gazed at the bathroom – it felt like a lifetime ago when he shouldered his pack and left thinking that he would never be back. 

With a deep breath he knocked on Cosette’s door.

“It’s open.”  Her soft voice was alluring to him.  She was a lady.  A woman.  He was so proud of her.

He turned the knob and breathed out a sigh.  “Cosette, may I speak with you?” he asked, coming in and drawing himself to his full height. 

She was sitting at her desk writing.  She put down her pen and smiled gently at him.  “Of course.”

He came to stand in front of her.  He looked around her room, unable to make simple eye contact.  Why was this so hard?  “Cosette, I know I’m not always kind to you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, but she remained quiet.

“And I know that I’m not as gentle as your father.  But, do know that I’ve always had your best interests at heart.  I know that this is a lot to ask, but I do hope that you recall me fondly in the years to come.  Remember the joy I brought your father, even if you cannot recall any joy that I brought to you.”

“Javert, what are you saying?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch his hand.  She assumed that he was feverish.  The poor man had been so ill.  She assumed that he needed to rest.

“I’m saying that if I do not come back alive, please don’t remember me with scorn.”  He had no right to ask her such things.  But, at the same time, he thought that she might comply.  And, that did his old heart good.

“I would never.  I _could_ never,” she assured him.  “Javert, you have always made my father and I very happy.  Our lives would be empty without you.  Please come home to us.”

He scoffed.  “It is nice of you to say.  But, I must keep the city safe.”

She stood up and took both of his hands in hers.  They were as cold as ice.  Rubbing her hands around his she spoke, her tone gentle but serious.  “Then do all you can to keep yourself safe as well,” she implored, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.  “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

After leaving Cosette’s room he walked into his and ValJeans.  ValJean was reading in bed and pretended to ignore Javert.

“Please don’t do this,” Javert implored.  “It’s hard enough to do this without thinking that you are angered with me.”

Brown eyes peered over the tops of his spectacles.  “Then do not take Marius to the station afterwards.  It’s a simple request .  One that you should be happy to oblige.”

“I cannot promise you that.  I need to hold someone accountable.  But, I will promise you that if there is anyone else – anyone at all, I will not choose Marius.”

Brown eyes shifted away.  “I suppose that I cannot ask for more than that,” he said, looking back to Javert.   He regarded the man deeply: the silver edges of his brown hair, the wrinkles along his eyes and mouth, the spots that had begun to form on his neck.  When had they become so old?  And, why did Javert insist on acting like he was still young?

Before he could think of what to say next, Javert pressed against his lips in a deep kiss.  Valjean leaned backwards, allowing Javert to climb on top of him.  Rough, calloused hands rubbed against Javert’s uniform as he felt himself ignite passionately.  They had not spent much intimate time together in the past few months.  He had wondered if Javert even saw him as an intimate partner anymore.  Not after the things he’d said to him.  The things he’d said to Cosette.

Javert pulled back.  “What is it?” he asked.  “Do you not… “ Had his need to abide by the law turned his companion away from him?  He swallowed thickly, preparing to be turned away.

“How can you love me still?” ValJean asked.  “After everything I did?  Everything I said?”

“Jean,” Javert sat next to his companion and regarded him seriously.  “You were sick.  You didn’t mean it.  I know that .  I know Cosette knows that.” He looked at ValJean sympathetically.  “You’re really upset about it still, aren’t you?”

“And you could go out there and die… please don’t remember those things.  Please remember that I love you and that I want you to come home.”

Choked with emotion, all Javert could do was nod.  “I’ll do the best that I can,” he promised.

Crawling next to ValJean, he leaned over and bit his neck. 

ValJean gasped in pleasure.  The man knew exactly how to please him.  “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life,” he said, as they proceeded to enjoy the night that could have been their last night together.


	58. Posies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What really happened behind the barricade

Javert sighed.  He hadn’t slept a wink, the whole day before being spent training the army on the plans of the police.  The prefects had pulled some strings and got a militia assigned to this uprising.  Javert was less than pleased.  He knew that these boys were trained to fight and to kill.  They were not trained to put down a revolution peacefully.  Cold dread filled his stomach as he realized that Marius’ chances of survival had just diminished considerably. 

“You’ll remember, I’ll be in plain clothes.  Do not start shooting to kill until I am clear,” he ordered, coming out in common wear.  He knew he was lucky that it was clean.  It reminded him of the clothes that he had worn in the orphanages.   He looked down, slouching forward a little.  He mimicked the way that ValJean had moved when he hunted him – before they had become respectable, fallen in love, raised a child…

He took a deep breath.  He had to be able to get behind the enemy lines.  He hoped that Marius would keep his promise.  He had to keep the young man alive.

He and the rest of the police set up along the rows of people waiting to see the funeral procession of General LeMarque.  He tried hard to stay his emotions.  He knew that he was being watched by both the police and the army.  They had their orders.  They would not shoot with the intent to kill until he ordered it.  He had to give the order.  It made him sick.  Yes, they were going against the laws of the King.  But, signing the death sentence of boys – even school boys – brought him no pleasure.

He watched as the common-folk rallied around the tomb of General LeMarque and was mildly worried that they would in some way deface it.  But, they were respectful, merely following it or walking along side it.  He knew that the army would stop the procession, but that wasn’t where he needed to be.  He had to get onto the other side of the barricade. 

Suddenly, the streets erupted into chaos.  Common folk intermingled with the schoolboys and he followed them into the corner that they had decided to hole up in.  He shook his head.  They literally barricaded themselves into the corner.  They were undermanned and had too few guns and ammunitions.  Even if the rest of the city did join them, they wouldn’t have enough weaponry to arm them.  They had passion, but they didn’t have a prayer.

“You want to join?” a man the others called Enjolras asked him.

“I’ve fought their wars.  I know their tactics.  I can find out their plan… they know me as their commander,” he replied honestly.

Marius looked up sharply, eyes narrowing, but he said nothing, instead choosing to continue to load the muskets.  They would need as many guns as possible already loaded.

“Find out their plans.  Let us know,” Enjolras said.  “You can come back in the side.  We’ll cover you, if necessary,” he said.

 _‘Fool,’_ Javert thought.  They were so trusting.

Javert left and went back to the precinct.  He wrote a letter to be delivered to ValJean and another to Cosette.  He hoped they would forgive him for everything that transpired.  Especially Cosette.  He could imagine Marius telling her that he gave them the wrong information and that he sealed the fates of the young men fighting so hard for progress.  He hoped that she wouldn’t hate him forever.  He hoped that she wouldn’t punish her father for his choice. 

As the sun set, he went back to the barricade.  He had heard that they had been shot at and a few people had been wounded.  He hoped that they were taking the wounded to the doctors.  He hoped they wouldn’t let their own die due to infection.

 _‘Turpentine_ ,’he thought, recalling how Cosette had known that turpentine would help clean infected wounds.  He hoped that the young men who had taught her such things were behind the barricade using it. 

He had tried to convince the army not to kill the revolutionaries.  But, they had other ideas.  They were not interested in bringing the young men to justice. They were worried about making certain that there was not a repeat of the Revolution of 1789.  These young men were going to die.  All of them – unless they were taken peacefully.  The less they fought, the more likely they were to survive.  Javert had to make certain Marius survived.  If he did not survive, Javert would not be able to go home.  Cosette would never forgive him.  At this point, he wasn’t even certain that he could forgive himself.

“What have you learned?” Enjolras asked him. 

“They’re not attacking tonight.  They hope that you’ll give in peacefully – perhaps in the morning.”  It wasn’t a complete lie.  The army was planning on attacking in the early dawn light.  He hoped that they would all be asleep and took groggy to fight back. 

“You liar!” a small voice accused.

He turned to see a young pickpocket that he had the misfortune of doing a good deal of adversarial work with. 

“This is Inspector Javert, my friends.  He’s not our ally- he’s with the enemy!”

“Get out of here you little welp!” Javert demanded.  The boy was too young to be fighting here.  He had to go.  He had to be safe. 

“I may be a welp, but I figured you out now didn’t I?” the young boy spat back. 

Javert brought his hands up for a fight.  True to his word, Marius turned his back on him.  He would not become involved.  Javert couldn’t blame him. 

“You’d best be on the lookout for me, Inspector,” the young boy said.  “I could take your job one day.”

Javert agreed, but didn’t have time to say much, as the young school boys descended on him.  He had gotten a few good punches in, but they got him in a rush and pinned him down. 

“You gonna kill me boys?” he barked, coughing as his breath escaped him. 

“The people will decide your fate,” Marius spat at him, echoing the sentiments of the first revolution. 

Javert tried to run, the cowards way, he knew.  But, he had a family to get back to.  He had to make it back to Jean – to Cosette.  Even if he was shamed and they had to go to England or Spain or Ireland, it didn’t matter. 

He was manhandled, as his neck was stuck in a noose and his was pushed to his knees.  His arms were bound behind him and the noose was tied so that he was nearly swinging but not quite. 

When he went to stand up, one of the boys whacked him in the back of the knee with the butt of his musket.   With a scream, Javert fell to the ground.  But, he was unable to lean all the way forward without hanging himself. 

He gagged and coughed violently, unable to keep himself from trembling with pain.  The fever and illness that he had kept at bay for two days started to show itself again.  “No.  Not here,” he mumbled. 

His knee throbbed and he was dizzy.  When he picked up his head, the young boy who had called him out was looking down on him.  “You’ve seen better days Inspector,” he stated.

Javert panted, blinking rapidly as he tried to stay the nausea.  “Heh-HepTESSH!!” he sneezed freely, unable to cover it. 

“You’re sick?  What are you doing here?” the young boy asked, true concern in his voice.

“My job,” Javert gasped. He closed his eyes  and tried to stay the throbbing, which was working its way up his leg and back.  He coughed wetly, nausea roiling through him.  To be done in by a child.  So fitting, somehow. 

Suddenly, he felt a cup be brought up to his lips.  “Drink Inspector,” the young voice told him.  “I can’t be caught being nice to you.  But, a bit of water will keep you alive longer, yea?” he asked.

Javert drank until he couldn’t and then nodded.  Shocked by the young boys’ offer of kindness, he simply nodded in the end.

Marius watched through the door.  He couldn’t let Javert die here.  Cosette would never forgive him.  Quickly, he jotted a note and rolled it up.  “Gavroche, would you do me a favor?” he asked.

The boy jumped up without a word and went to Marius.

Javert couldn’t hear through the pain, but worked at focusing on them.   He watched the young man scamper off and hoped that he would be all right.  He hoped the army wouldn’t shoot at him.  He hoped they had the good sense to leave the poor boy alone.

No stranger to getting around or out of town, Gavroche stole away on a hay wagon getting out of town. 

When Gavroche got to the address Marius told him, he looked up.  He had been to Marius’ house only once.  Although this house wasn’t as grand, he could tell that they were friends of Marius’.  Not friend of the street. 

He knocked on the door and waited, taking a step back, when a large man with salt and pepper hair answered.  “Message from the barricade,” he said, holding out his hand for a coin.

ValJean looked at him, confused. “From the barricade?” he echoed.  He dug in his pocket and handed the boy a Napoleon. 

“For you,” Gavroche said, holding out the letter.

_Monsieur ValJean,_

_Inspector Javert has been captured.  He will die if you do not come for him._

_Marius_

ValJean sighed heavily.  “Cosette!” he called into the house, stepping back in only far enough to gather his hat and coat.

Cosette came rushing into the foyer. 

He grasped her, and pressed a heavy kiss to her forehead.  “You stay here.  Do not come out unless I, Javert, or Marius come for you,” he demanded.

“Papa,” Cosette held onto his shoulders.  “What is going on?”

“Javert needs help.”

“Go to him, papa,” Cosette insisted.  “I’ll be fine.”

Holding Cosette for what he knew could be the last time, he forced himself to think only of Javert and followed Gavroche back to the barricade.

“I brought him back.  I know him,” Gavroche said, assured that if Marius knew him that he was supposed to be there.

“Fine,” Enjolras said.  “You take care of the spy Javert, then you can stay.  Otherwise, you’d best be going.  We don’t need any more infiltrators.”

ValJean went into the tavern.  His heart yearned for Javert, as he saw him bound and kneeling, nearly hanging from the neck by a too tightly bound noose.  His face was flushed and he was nearly limp.

ValJean kneeled before him, pressing a hand on his shoulder.  Heat radiated through the torn linen clothes.  “Inspector, you must come with me,” he said.  Ever so carefully, he slipped the noose over Javert’s head.  He helped him stand, noticing that Javert could not stand on his own. 

He half helped, half dragged him into the alley.  “What is it?”

“They took me out at the knee…”  His voice was breathy and distant. 

“We’ve got to get you home,” ValJean said, cutting open the ropes that bound Javert’s wrists. 

“No… I have to go…”  He coughed harshly.  He tried to walk, but nearly fell under his own weight. 

ValJean grabbed him under the arms.  “Do you need me to take you home?” he asked, allowing Javert some time to get his legs under him.

“No… I’ll… I’ll get back to the precinct.”  He turned and sneezed violently.  “Ugh… it wasn’t supposed to be like this.  I’m sorry Jean.”

ValJean shook his head.  “No.  You’ve done nothing wrong.   You have your job to do… and I have mine.  I want no other bullet to take me down by yours.”

Javert swallowed thickly.  “I cannot promise your safety.”

“Promise me that my death will be swift,” ValJean said, pulling Javert into his arms. 

Knowing what the army had planned, Javert nodded.  “That I can promise.  And, that I’ll care for Cosette.”

 ValJean nodded and kissed him on the forehead.  “Thank you,” he said, pulling out Javert’s sidearm.  He fired a shot into the wall, causing Javert to jump.   “Now go,” he said with a sigh. 

Javert  hobbled off, giving ValJean one last look before he went back to the police.

ValJean went back to the barricade.  “It’s done,” he mumbled, giving Marius a nod. 

Certain that ValJean did not kill his companion, Marius nodded back.  At least now he knew that Cosette would not blame him for Javert’s death – if he lived through this ordeal that was.  As the silence raged on, with only a few interactions with the police or the military, Marius was starting to get the impression  that they were not being taken serious.

“We’re the only barricade left,” someone mentioned.

He shook his head.  “This won’t work,” he whispered as the others mentioned leaving.

Suddenly, there was a rumble of thunder and it started to rain. 

The boys scrambled to hide the gunpowder and guns.  If the powder was wet, the guns would not fire.  By the time the rain stopped they realized that the gunpowder was still damp.  They were stuck, stranded without blackpowder and without back up. 

Marius shared a sad look with ValJean.  It wasn’t right that he was here.  He wished he could convince the old man to go – even if only for the sake of Cosette.  But, one look at the man’s hardened features, and Marius knew that if they were to die there, they would die together.

Suddenly, there was a scuffle and someone called for Gavroche.  He turned and looked through one of the many holes in the barricade.  “Gavroche, come back!” he called to the boy who was trying to get the black powder off of the fallen soldiers. 

Gavroche turned back to smile at them.

Suddenly, the group jumped as they heard a gunshot.  The army were taking pot shots at the boy trying to collect gun powder.   Not one to be intimidated, Gavroche threatened the army, yelling at them.  He bowed his head as those around him screamed when a final shot rang out, falling the boy backwards. 

“You must surrender!” a delegate from the army cried out.  “You must or you will die.”

“You should take them up on it,” ValJean advised, knowing that they would not. 

“Let us die facing our enemies!  We finish what we’ve begun,” Marius yelled. 

With that all of the young men with a shot left took them up and shot at the army, causing the soldiers to advance upon them.   The boys scrambled, causing Marius to misstep and slip, knocking himself out in the process.  Ever keen, ValJean scooped him up and held him over his shoulder.  He knew he had to escape before the army moved in on them.  The only question was how.

 


	59. Forget-Me-Nots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert and ValJean are in recovery.

It was over.

The battle that would be known as a skirmish – if that – had ended. 

Properly dressed in his uniform, Javert limped through the war torn streets.  Blood stained the ground and the bodies of men he had fought beside both in the police force and the army littered the ground.  He had been informed that when the revolutionaries had not surrendered, they were corralled into the tavern and shot.  Since then, they had been removed and laid out for burial. 

Javert felt his breath get caught in his chest as he saw how many had died.  His eye swept the bodies, looking for ValJean and Marius.  The idea of his love being corralled and shot made him sick to his stomach.  His knee throbbed as he wondered what he was ever going to tell Cosette. 

Suddenly a realization dawned on him.  ValJean was not among the counted dead.  Not only that, but neither was Marius.

So where were they?

Javert limped behind where the barricade was.  He noticed a sewer cover moved and winced as he realized how the two men likely made their escape.  Rushing back to the precinct, he demanded that the sewer map be pulled from the archives.  It took him most of the day to figure out where everything was, but several hours later he was exhausted, but able to figure out where ValJean should be coming out – if he was not already.

He rushed to the bridge, hoping to catch his love. 

When ValJean emerged, Javert wrinkled his nose.  The stench was overwhelming and made him sick.  Stomach roiling he stopped his companion.  “I need to bring him in to answer for the deaths.”  His voice sounded foreign to his ears.  The choice of the army was not Marius’ fault.

“Look down.  He’s dying.  Please let me get him to a doctor,” ValJean all but begged.

Javert’s mind warred with him.  He knew that it wasn’t right that Marius be held accountable for the army’s decision.  But, he was a leader of the revolutionaries.  Without him it may not have come to this.

He took a few gaspy breaths before sneezing violently to the side.  His knee threatened to buckle. 

“Please.  You could use a doctor too,” ValJean pleaded, hoping he could get the man to see reason. 

His head was full of too many thoughts.  Pain coursed through his body.  Before he could even think to answer, he passed out cold.

When Javert awoke, he was in his bed.  ValJean was asleep next to him, holding his hand tightly. 

“Jean?” he whispered pulling his hand free. “Are you all right?”

ValJean leaned up on one arm, coughing wetly as he did so.  “You’re awake,” he whispered happily.

“You sound awful,” he croaked.  Trying unsuccessfully to clear his throat he gave ValJean a confused look.  “How long have I been asleep?”

“About three days.  The doctors said that the revolutionaries dislocated your knee.  How you walked around on it we’ll never know.  But, it’s back in.  Your flu has been improving.”  He made a wet choking sound and let go of Javert’s hand, turning away from him as he coughed violently.

Javert forced himself to sit up.  His head felt foggy, but so much seemed uncertain and unreal.  “What is wrong? This cough…”  He turned over his shoulder.  “Where is Cosette?”

ValJean sighed.  “Cosette is with Marius – who I rescued from the barricade and whom you tried to arrest.”  He got out of bed and poured Javert a cup of water.  “You cannot try to arrest him again.  The boy will suffer every day for his decision.  Please don’t take the future… the future…”  He broke off in harsh wet coughs.  Pulling a handkerchief out from his pocket, he coughed heavy crunchy coughs into it.  They bent him at the waist and caused the water to fall over the edge of the glass, wetting his hand. 

Javert leaned forward.  “What is it?” he asked, worried for the wetness of the coughs.

“Just a bit of bronchitis.  The doctors used chloroform on you to make certain that you could sleep.  So, I had to take some expectorants in order to stay awake for you.  Apparently, the sewage was bad for my health or something.

He sat down heavily on the bed.  It had taken days to wash the stench off.  Cosette had been nearly glued to Marius’ side, after insistence from ValJean that he was fine.  He missed her at his side, but it was time for her to be given off to the new man in her life.  The next phase had begun.

“Here,” he croaked, handing over the glass. 

Javert took it with clumsy fingers and sipped the water until his throat felt less parched.  The room felt quieter, calmer without Cosette. He didn’t like it.  He had grown used to her presence over the years.

“I know,” ValJean said.  “I miss her too.”

“You should send word for her.  Tell her you miss her.”

ValJean shook his head.  “That would be wholly unfair.  She needs the time with Marius.  She has spent a lifetime with us.  No need to worry her for naught.”

Javert shook his head.  He didn’t like it.  He knew that Cosette would want to know at least how her father was doing.  He winced as ValJean started to cough again.  The cough was troubling.  He had heard it before in Toulon.  It rarely lead to anything good.

“Heh-Kesshumm!” Javert sneezed violently, the sneeze rocking him nearly in half.  He felt ValJean’s hand on his cheek, his neck. 

A heavy sigh.  “It seems that you’re just symptomatic.  Your fever broke a few days ago.”  He was still shocked that Javert had survived as well as he had.  The doctor had checked his wound, his illness, his knee.  According to the doctor, the only reason that Javert was still alive was due to Cosette’s care.  He should have died behind the barricade.  All three of them should have.  But, thanks to the support triangle that they had inadvertently created, they were able to keep each other alive.  He hoped that Cosette never figured it out.  In fact, he hoped she never thought on it at all.

Javert sniffled thickly.  “Could do without the symptoms too.  But, I’ll return to work soon and helpfully, they’ll just go away.”

ValJean looked down sadly.  Of course that would be what Javert wanted – to go back to work.  He knew that he should do so himself.  But, the house already felt so empty without Cosette. 

“Heh-Kesshumm!  Ugh.”  Javert leaned back, yawning widely.  “Rest with me, Jean.”

ValJean leaned back against Javert.  The familiar comfort brought him joy, but the feeling of laying down made his lungs seize painfully.  He sat up as the coughs worked their way out.  Panting he turned to Javert.  “I’m afraid I’ll keep you awake,” he said, moving to get out of bed.

Javert held him in place.  “No, you cannot leave.  I need you here. You came for me in the barricade.  I don’t care if you’re ill, I need you by my side now. Please.”

With a nod, ValJean lay beside him, propped on the pillows, to keep his own symptoms at bay.  They could get through this together.  Cosette never had to know.


	60. White Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's been going on in ValJean's head? Why can't he and Cosette connect?
> 
> Yes, I'm rushing through the end. I want to be done with this story now. Perhaps once I'm done I'll fill in some. But, I need a conclusion.

It had been weeks since Cosette had seen her father.  She had helped Marius recover from his ailment and injury, but she missed her papa.  She heard news of Javert, he had returned to work a few days after the barricade, apparently with a limp.  She had tried to catch his eye, but always when he was on duty.   She tried to smile at him, to wait for him, even once to approach him – but he always responded appropriately to his station, slighting her to keep his reputation in tact.  She didn’t blame him, of course.  In fact, she could hardly expect otherwise.

What she could not understand, however, is why they were ignoring her letters.  She had sent them each an apology letter, stating that she had not meant to ignore them while Marius was in recovery.  She knew that Marius and her father had met, along with Marius’ grandfather to speak of the wedding, but much to her dismay, her father left soon after. 

“He’s gone on holiday,” Marius explained, spouting something about looking into a new house in England.  But, Cosette could not believe that he would leave without saying goodbye to her. 

“Javert please answer my letters,” she nearly begged as he walked past her one day. 

He paused, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and turned to look at her.  “I’m afraid I don’t know what letters you speak of, miss,” he responded.  His tone was so formal that Cosette’s heart nearly broke.  She had been having his letters hand delivered to the station, so she knew he was receiving them.  And ‘miss’?  It was all so formal.  So wrong.

“Inspector, I am getting married at the end of the month.  I implore you to come and bring a guest,” she said, handing him the invitation.  As she stepped closer to give him the envelope, she whispered, “Please you only need tell me what I did wrong and I will right it.”

He stepped back abruptly and nodded.  His heart felt as though it was made of stone as he watched the young beauty who he loved like a daughter implore him with her eyes to give her any sense of notice.

He nodded once and thanked her before turning and walking away.

Cosette sniffled a bit, forcing away the tears.  She couldn’t help but feel hurt.  Why didn’t he love her anymore?

Javert hung up his cloak and hat when he got home and walked directly into ValJean’s study.  “I received another letter from Cosette.  And, she stopped me on the street to invite us to the wedding.  Why won’t you just respond?”  he confronted.

ValJean felt as though his head was filled with cotton.  He was unable to shake the cough and fever that he had gotten the night of the barricade.  He pulled the blanket that covered his shoulders tighter around them.  He coughed gruffly and shook his head.  “Could you imagine my letting her see me like this?”

“I could,” Javert answered seriously.  “She would love to take care of you.  You know that.”

ValJean shook his head.  “I cannot bother her.  Marius wouldn’t allow it.”

Javert tilted his head a bit.  “What do you mean Marius won’t allow it?”

ValJean turned his shoulder away from him and looked out the window.  The sun was setting casting eerie shadows on the yellow walls.  He shivered as another chill coursed through him.

“Jean what did you say to the boy.”

“I told him the truth about my past.”

Javert felt as though his blood ran cold.  “You mean that you came from humble beginnings…” he lead.

A small shake of his head.  “The disgrace of being in Toulon.”

Javert came beside him and knelt down to make eye contact.  “Why?  Why would you do that to yourself?   It is obvious he hasn’t told her.   Just go visit her.”

ValJean sighed.  “I have.  He won’t let her see me.”  Tears welled up in his eyes and his breath started coming in uneasy pants.  “Hur-CHEEHOO!”  The sneeze gave way to chesty coughs, which caused Javert to frown deeper.

Javert sighed.  “I don’t understand why would you do that.  But, you obviously thought it was necessary.  Cosette thinks you don’t love her anymore.  She asked me today what she did to offend her.  The letter she dropped off today asked what she needed to do to earn your love back.  She apologizes for making you stay during the revolution and is begging for your forgiveness.  Jean, she needs to know what is going on.”

ValJean frowned.  He didn’t want to cause his daughter more pain.  The girl had been through enough.  “Tell her we’ll go to the wedding,” he agreed.

But, the day of the wedding, they did not show.  In fact, no matter how many times Cosette looked out the window, neither Javert or her papa were coming up the walkway.  Cosette smiled sadly at Marius.  “They’re not coming,” she said, resigned. 

“I’m certain there is a reason.  He loves you.”  He felt mildly guilty for not telling Cosette that her papa had been by to visit over the past few weeks.  But, the man was obviously ill and he needed rest and care.  Marius thought that they would enjoy their visits more were he well.  Marius had paid for one of the best doctors in town to look in on her papa regularly.  The reports were that he had bronchitis which had become pneumonia over the past week. He intended to tell Cosette just after the wedding.

“He doesn’t.  I disobeyed him and now he’s … I deserve it.”  Her voice waivered with unshed tears.

“No.  He loves you. “  Guilt crushed him.  He was about to tell her the truth, but was called away to handle a problem.  When he returned, he pulled on her hand.  “Come with me,” he said.  He had received a report that ValJean’s health took a turn for the worse.  He knew that he had to let Cosette at least say goodbye.

 


	61. We All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The death of ValJean

Javert sighed sadly as he watched ValJean sleep.  They had moved him to the hospital – the nuns knew how to tend to him when Javert had to work or sleep or couldn’t handle the situation – which was quite often.   He was sitting in the chair next to ValJean’s bed, leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.  He watched ValJean’s chloroform induced sleep. The bronchitis had become pneumonia and settled deep in the man’s lungs. 

He sighed again, blinking back the tears.  He knew that the man would not want him to tell Cosette – not today, on her wedding day.  But, he felt so alone.  ValJean had withdrawn so far from his daughter that Javert figured the heart break would have driven Cosette away by now.  He couldn’t reach out to her.  He would let her know about her father’s death, of course.  But, after that he would put in for a transfer.  Her scorn was more than he could face.  Once Jean was lost, he knew he would also lose Cosette.  It was one of those brutal, cruel facts of life.

He sniffled.  It wasn’t fair really.  ValJean was so good.  He was so pious.  He was so perfect.  Greying hair replaced the black of the man he remembered chasing all those years ago.  Back then, he never would have guessed that he would be sitting with the dying man crying over the loss.  Javert could only try to live up to being as good as his partner.  Certainly, he was insistent about making certain that the law was abided by.  But, he was cold, closed off, untrusting.  He spent his days with the slime of humanity and his nights with a man – a crime unto itself.   Oddly, when he thought of Jean, he never thought of their relationship as a sin.  Only that he was the sin.  That he was the unclean one.  He didn’t deserve to live while his partner lay dying.

Dying.

The doctor had been clear.  Without a miracle, the man’s lungs were not strong enough to combat the pneumonia.  His body had been weakened by the cholera and influenza.  His lungs had be decimated by the bronchitis.  Fever ravaged his body and his coughs were unproductive.  Javert had denied the doctor one last chloroform treatment.  If Jean was to die, he would do so of his own free will. 

Javert knew the man had a legal will and that he and Cosette would be well provided for.  But, he didn’t want the money or the house.  He wanted his companion.  To hear his laugh and taste his kisses.  He wanted to feel loved again, to hear that he was.  He regretted hardly ever telling the man that he was loved in return.  He hoped that Jean knew… that Cosette knew…  He hoped that he was good enough for them, as they always said he was.

Suddenly, he heard light and quick footfalls.  Turning, he arched an eyebrow as Cosette came rushing towards him – still wearing her wedding gown.   She embraced him and his heart soared.  He had expected scorn, but she grasped his head between her hands and forced him to make eye contact with her.  “What happened, Javert?  When?” she asked, through the tears.  She kissed him on the cheek and held him to her again.

Javert felt as though he had died and gone to heaven.  The forgiveness, love and concern that cascaded off of Cosette wrapped him in a net of love that made him feel as though he were safe and everything would be all right.  But, one look at his sick companion brought his euphoria back to reality.

“What happened to him?” Cosette asked, sitting on the side of ValJean’s bed.  She rewet a cloth that was floating on top of a basin of water and pressed it to the man’s feverish brow gently. 

“Pnumonia,” Javert rasped, his voice too tired to properly answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cosette asked, the betrayal evident in her voice.

“Your father didn’t want to bother you – to infringe on your new life.”  Javert knew the answer was cold, but when he saw the hurt look in Cosette’s eyes, he regretted it instantly.   That was a truth she didn’t need to know.

“It’s no infringement, Inspector,” Marius answered for her.

Javert eyed the young man angrily.  Were it not Cosette’s wedding day, he would have beaten Marius within an inch of his life as punishment for pushing ValJean out of her life.  The two of them needed each other.  The depression had been more than ValJean could bear, until – at last – he gave into the illness.

He and ValJean had read every one of Cosette’s letters together.  The ones that told of happy times.  The ones of faux-pas that she made, not being used to living at such high means.  The sad ones about how Marius was coping with the memories of the barricade.  The happy ones about parties she had invited them to, but they never came.  But, the ones that always seemed to stick with them and haunted their dreams were the ones where she begged for their forgiveness and asked them to visit her or call for her to come home. They all went unanswered, the men instead choosing to hold on to the pain and wrap themselves inside it. 

ValJean coughed wetly, drawing Javert and Cosette’s attention. His eyes opened and he tried desperately to focus on the face in front of him.  “Cosette?” he rasped, bringing his hand up to touch her face.

“Yes, papa.  I am here.  I am right here,” she said, wrapping her hand around his and nuzzling her cheek into it.

“Can you forgive me?” his rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Of course,” she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  “Papa, of course I forgive you.  There is nothing to forgive.  I love you so much.”  Her words started to fail her as she choked on the sobs and the tears.

“Give her the book, Javert… the book,” ValJean rasped, not opening his eyes again.  Suddenly, he choked wetly and great coughs burst from his chest.  “These are the answers you have always sought.  The story of your mother – of me… of Javert.”  Glassy red rimmed eyes worked to focus on her.  “Please take care of him.  Do not scorn him for his past… or for mine… Heeetccheeww!”  The sneeze was airy, barely there, but it left them man panting and sniffling. 

Ever so gently, Cosette wiped his nose.  “Bless you papa,” she whispered through the tears.  Turning to Javert, she added, “I could never scorn you.”

“Heh,” he replied bitterly.  “Wait until you get your answers.  Promise me nothing before then.”  He intended to be long gone by the time she could scorn him anyway.

“You will be welcomed into the arms of the Lord.”  ValJean looked passed Cosette to see Fantine standing beside her.  “Come with me, Jean ValJean.  Look at my daughter – the one you raised.  Look at this woman – beautiful of body, heart, mind, and soul.  Look at this man, the one who one would think had no soul.  You turned an enemy into a life partner.  The Lord has forgiven you for your trespasses. Your time has come to join him.”

ValJean’s eyes startled awake and then relaxed. 

“No,” Cosette, mumbled.   She went to fall onto her papa, but javert caught her.  Instead she held onto him, sobbing as he held her.  Strong brown eyes closed and worked to stay his own tears.   Marius looked on, pleased that they had been able to get there in time for Cosette to say goodbye.

ValJean watched as his companion and his daughter found strength within each other.  He wished to tell Cosette that it wasn’t her fault that he walked away.  Certainly, that was written in the book, but he wanted to tell her himself.  It would mean more coming from him.  And, poor Javert.  The man was born a bastard, raised in hatred, shunned, and finally came to love late in his life.  He wondered what Javert would do without him.

“You have a choice, Monsieur,” Fantine explained, leading him away.  “You can stay and fight through your ailment.  But, you cannot continue to shun my daughter.  Or, you can come with me now.  The choice is yours.”

A tear slipped down ValJean’s cheek as he watched the anguish over his death.  He bowed his head in contemplation until at last he made his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end for now. I know it's cruel, but I'll likely do an addendum epilogue one way or the other (or both ways) as the situation calls to me.


	62. Stock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantine is not as innocent as she appears.
> 
> (A/N: Okay so I couldn't end it like that.)

ValJean shivered as he felt himself be wrapped in sheets of ice. The pain in his head was lessened and he recalled what it felt like to not be in pain.  His ears felt unclogged and the fire in his throat was extinguished.  Gently, as though a large weight was being lifted off of him his lungs released and he felt the most amazing warmth fill him, as though he was being filled with Gods love.

 _Make your choice.  Do you wish to come with me – free from the shackles of earth – or do you wish to return to those who love you?_   Fantine’s voice and intent were clear.  She watched as her child, so beautiful in her wedding dress, held onto the man that ValJean had chosen to spend the rest of his life with.  She felt no anger for Javert – they were all simply products of their circumstances. 

She watched as Marius held onto Cosette, whispering nonsensical words into her hair.  Her daughter, so beautifully dressed in her wedding dress deserved a better wedding day than this.  Her gaze swept back to Javert – grey speckled hair that had once been dark brown adorned his strong face.  Eyes which had once been so cold and unfeeling contorted in anguish.  He shuffled his feet beneath the weight of his loss.  She felt his intentions – he was going to flee.  Her daughter was going to lose her family in one day. 

 _“I wish to feel this – this love forever more.”_ ValJean imparted on her.

She smiled a bit.  Perhaps it was sneaky, but she loved her daughter more than anything in the world – or the next.


	63. Red Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't end it like that either. This leaves things open for other ficlets.
> 
> (Tissue warning)

_A wet crackle accompanied a shallow breath._

Cosette’s ears perked up.  She knew that sound.  Chest congestion – Marius had been plagued with it for weeks after the fall of the barricade.  But, his lungs were clear.  The doctors had assured them of that. 

She felt Javert’s strong arms encircling her and pressed her ear to his chest as she shook her long golden locks out of her face.  His breaths were clear and strong, just as they always were.  “Javert, press on his chest,” she whispered urgently.

The older man looked down at her sympathetically.  The nuns were already making their way over to cover his old companion and speak with them regarding funeral arrangements.  Even though he knew he would not – could not – follow, Javert already had planned to ask them to bury him in their private cemetery.  It was only right after all.

Cosette pulled away from him and listened again. 

 _Another shallow wet crackle_.

“Javert please.  As though you were bringing someone back from death,” she said, urging him to go forward.  “Just press on his chest once – as though you were intending to save him after he has fallen into the river.”

Knowing that she would already resent him for keeping her papa from him, he could not deny her something so small.  If he did it and it didn’t work, that would suffice to prove that he tried.  If it worked… well it wouldn’t work.

With all of his strength, he pressed on ValJeans chest, eliciting a harsh wet exhale.  Fluid started dribbling out of ValJean’s mouth and Cosette’s eyes widened.

“Do it again, Inspector,” Marius insisted.

Quickly and purposefully, Javert pressed again causing another cough.  This time ValJean’s eyes fluttered open as he gasped for an inhaled breath and a horribly violent, productive cough echoed in the room. 

With the grace of years of experience, she rolled him onto his side, allowing his exhausted body to expel the fluid. 

“Cosette, you shouldn’t be here,” Marius said, trying to pull her away.

She shook herself free.  “You know not of what you speak,” she stated, pushing back her papa’s hair and pushing his chin forward to allow easier expulsion.  Her heart skipped a beat as she felt him warm again.

Bleary eyes looked up at her.  “Cosette?  I do not understand,” ValJean whispered.

“I’m here, papa.  Javert and I are here.  Marius too.  You’re gonna get better, papa.  You’ll become well.”

*Les Miserables*

A week of fitful pain passed. ValJean’s strength increased as he continued to expel the fluid from his chest.  His sleep became deeper as his fever, which had spiked the evening after he awoke, had decreased.  Ever the dutiful daughter, Cosette only left his side to sleep and eat as Marius dictated. 

Javert returned to work, knowing that Cosette would take good care of her papa and that Marius would take good care of her.  He and Marius discussed many things, including the possibility of the two companions going to live with them in his grandfather’s not so humble estate.  Javert was torn.  On one hand it was a kind gesture, one that he was not certain that it was proper to refuse.    On the other hand, he wanted to stay in their home – just the two of them.  But, as Marius had pointed out, if the man’s state of health was becoming precarious, it was likely best that he was comfortable and close to Cosette – and any grandchildren that may come along. Treading through society was ValJean’s job, not his and he felt firmly out of his depth.

A sneeze ripped through ValJean, tossing him forward.  He reached out and found a fresh handkerchief where he had put his used one from the night before.  He took a semi-deep breath and smiled as the burning had relaxed to a dull ache.  His thoughts drifted to Fantine.  What sort of game was she playing at?  He had felt Gods love fill him.  He had been granted access to Heaven.  He had made his choice, and yet here he was.

Grateful that he could finally blow his own nose, he did so plentifully, causing him to cough more.  The doctors were shocked at how well his recovery was progressing.  Cosette had demanded that he not receive any more chloroform treatments.  He smiled at the feeling of being loved that filled him when he thought of Cosette.  As he recovered, his withdrawal from her seemed selfish and unnecessary.  He had apologized to her a few days ago.  But, she only echoed a sentiment that he told her during her younger years. 

“Oh, papa,” she had stated kindly.  “Yes, your absence hurt – it was an absence.  A hole in my life.  But, you are here now.  And we shan’t let ourselves drift so severely away again.  Of course I forgive you.  What is past is past.  We are all right now, and we can build a future on this.”

No wonder Javert called her his angel.  She was – in so many ways.  And, not only was he grateful to have her, he was never going to let her go (or push her away) again.

He blinked hard as Fantine appeared in front of him.  Her smile was warm and kind, but her eyes shone with the same mischief that he had so often seen in Cosette’s. 

“Why did you let me choose if you were only going to send me back?” he whispered.

She looked at him with an air of confidence he had never seen her use in life.  “You chose to feel that love.  While God does love you, and you are welcome to his Kingdom, when you die the first thing you feel is the love of those who love you.  Javert.  Cosette.  What you felt was their love.   And you chose to feel that love every day.  So, I sent you back so that you will.”

He blinked again, touched by the truth of the statement.  When he looked up to reply, she was gone.   Humbled and feeling incredibly loved, he closed his eyes again.  If they were going to love him so thoroughly, the least he could do was recover quickly and completely for them.

 

 


End file.
